author’s note:

I’ve memorized this poem, so as to use it for medicinal purposes.

But I suppose that’s how we use all poetry—for medicinal purposes.


In the dream…

one waterdrop
from that towering redwood tree
hit the midnight mirror of the pond

as if to plunge
a cold needle
down into my heart—

creating rings within rings of ripples—

the waves spreading
until finally striking
the rocks along the shore

then coming back
to center.  All the circles gathering
to a still point…a point

that could not remain
so still—a point
I could not hold

but a stillness that I know
I can recall
whenever I break
against those rocks.

© 2012, Michael R. Patton
Open All Night: the book