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author’s note:
When a man hears angels singing
he hears angels singing.
— Mary Oliver
THE FABLE OF THE SONGBIRD & THE FROG
When the songbird told him
you’re no match for me
the bullfrog countered:
by who’s measure?—
yes, many have opened
their windows to your song
but the few who’ve opened to mine
recognize a beauty less obvious
so aren’t they more refined?
Only a wise heart can find
the aria hidden within
my harsh slimy croaking.
© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps: poetry ebook
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WHEN I SAW YOUR TRESSES ON THE PILLOW
How can these wild dreams be
true tales of a tame waking life?
I asked myself when I awoke
from that dream in which
your tresses cascaded
down a long set of steps
then answered that question
by shining a soft light
over your fierce tangles
and discovering there
a waterfall of fiery life.
GREAT LIFE
Frustrated by the necessary limitations
of my crib…
I find release
in the expansion granted
by my nightly dreams
which, I’m told
are actually pictures
of my pen…
what a great life we secretly live.
© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog
author’s note:
Up from the bottom
of an old pond,
that duckling
has seen something strange.
— Joso (trans. Beilenson/Behn)
DREAMING THE WOUNDED EAGLE
When the eagle plummeted from the sky
straight down into the lake
I felt so confused:
how could anything so powerful
crash—?—
how could something so grand
simply vanish—?
I awoke in such an astonished state—
I could not think
and so, began to feel
the desperate message
in my depths–
a message maybe a few
(or maybe many)
could also use
so I will translate
what the eagle silently told me:
now you’ve seen the wound—
so maybe now
you will go against
lower instinct
and push yourself down
and down
and down
into this shocking cold water—
will you finally save me?
Since that dream message
I’ve gone on countless dives
and though I can’t yet claim
to have resurrected the eagle…
considering what I have raised
I can say:
I’m glad I disobeyed
the fear that warned me
to stay on dry land.
© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog
author’s note:
Not written in any woman in particular. Written to all, in general.
RADIANCE
When I mention her glow
she insists she only reflects
some distant sun…
but later
in the depth of night
she places her hand
over her heart
and wonders if
that warmth radiating
might be more than merely
mechanical heat
from the pumping of blood—
could it also be
the radiance of spirit?
© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog
Michael Patton
