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author’s note:

No such thing as a bad dream!
 

LIGHT FROM A DARK DREAM

As I struggled to navigate
the dark labyrinth
of that dream…

what a shock when
the thin guiding thread broke
and soon after that
my small lamp blew out

then in the smoky fog
I tried to find my way
with careful fingertips

but my sense of touch
had dulled.

What a blessing that dream!—
because…

when I awoke to its light
I began to see again.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog

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author’s note:

I may be a fraidy cat.  But I’m a fraidy cat with curiosity.
 

BEFORE A STEP

In the dream, a door swings open

as if daring me to step inside.

I want to accept
but because I see
only darkness beyond
I hesitate

even though I know
I’ll eventually step—
just because I’m so
damn curious.

If I’d employed that guide
I wouldn’t feel this fear

but without fear
how I can realize my strength?

Yes, when I finally step
at first, I’ll feel lost

but whatever path I then find
will be my own.
 

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook

author’s note:

We keep trying to brush the night away with our lights…

But the night just laughs—the night knows it’s still the boss.
 

THE LIGHT OF DECEMBER AT MIDNIGHT

Midnight feels darker
in December:

when I open myself
to the strange quiet
around Solstice night
I know the old familiar
in a new way

for instance…
when I stopped
at that display I’ve often mocked
suddenly I saw

the pink plastic baby lying in tinsel straw
as the hidden life in my heart
gestating slowly towards glorious birth

and the styrofoam star glittery with sequins
seemed to be that wise mind within—
the one that looks down and sighs with sadness
at the sight of my rough antics

and then (to my embarrassment)
I recognized that moon-eyed bovine
as my own slow head

but despite its domestic dullness
my cow brain could still find meaning
in those other display figures
made of cheap fiberboard.

Yes, midnight does seem darker
to this ex-Christian at Christmas—
darker, yet pervaded with such light.
 

myth steps blog
© 2017, Michael R. Patton

 

author’s note:

This poem, written on Christmas Eve 2007, has become my Christmas tradition…

But traditions change over time.  This year, I’ve added a subtitle.

 

CHRISTMAS BAT
(or: The Birth Pains of Winter)

In this season, when we recognize
the birth of bright new life
in the darkest dark…

I wanted to give you all
an appropriate poem
of sweet Christmas light

but my heart stubbornly refused
to sing of our ideal Yuletide—

instead, this bat poem
demanded to be born:

   Cold cave and dung—
   there I hung
   wet with stalactite drops

   until a vampire bat perceived
   how tedious torturous time
   had finally ripened me—

   its bite woke me up—
   those painful fangs burst me free!—

   so that I might soar
   and sow my seed.

Some poems won’t let you go
until you open their cage
so after I wrote that batty rhyme
I felt quite relieved

until the child within me said,
“Okay—
 now you can warm me
 with a real Christmas story!”

I tried (but in vain)
to placate
that hungry innocent
with this insight:

  doesn’t that flighty verse
  actually speak of Christmas?—

  of new life born
  from the darkest night?

 

© 2016, Michael R. Patton
Searching for My Best Beliefs: a poetry book

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