You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘guidance’ tag.

author’s note:

He’s so fine
Do-lang do-lang do-lang
       — “He’s So Fine”, lyric by Ronald Mack
 

GRIND DOWN FINE

Now I can accept
the feeling of being lost
as I walk this land–
now I can accept
the feeling
of shouldering a burden

because I have accepted
these beliefs:

my steps, though confused, have a purpose—
a hidden path, a plan:

just look how strong I’ve grown

with the weight of this unseen stone
on my back—
a stone incessantly turning.

Yeah
the stone grinds me down
as it turns

but I’m ground down fine.

As I lose
so much of what I was
I’m slowly discovering
the finer me
I’m meant to be

and in the process
leaving a trail—

imagine a trail of corn meal
others may feed upon
and follow

if they feel lost
if they need sustenance
if they struggle
to accept this path
—this burden:

they can feed on me
just as I’ve fed on many
who’ve gone before me

they can feed on us
just as those who follow them
will feed on them—

yes
like you, like me
they will leave
a trail of corn meal
as they find their way—

as they
grind down fine.
 


© 2017, Michael R. Patton
Searching for My Best Beliefs: a poetry book

hand-touch-january-12-2017s

author’s note:

Once again, I try to get this poem right.
 

ENDURING THE BEST

After you, I realized:

we must endure
not only the worst
among us, but also
the best.

Both overwhelm us—
both challenge us
to rise above.

Yes, one tries to darken our eyes
while the other tries to enlighten

but brilliant light can stun

and with sight
comes responsibility:

when I try to ignore
what I now know
I feel guilty

especially when I sense
your old owl eyes watching me
from a place unseen
(located somewhere
 over my left shoulder).

Yes I’m pleased
you take an interest
I just wish you’d encourage me
occasionally

when doubt
agitates my thought
almost to blindness—

reassure me
with a spirit whisper:

tell me again
why I must not slack
in this work—
tell me again
how it helps us all.

Tell me
to keep on lifting
my leaden feet—
tell me I can find
the strength hidden within
—but only if I try to lift.

Please, tell me
I will eventually
hold the peace
that always seems to slip
from my grip.

Tell me
all you once told me—
tell me again…

I wait…
but again: only silence

yet I don’t feel rejected—
after all
why should you remind me
when I haven’t forgotten?—

besides that
a repeat would merely be
temporary comfort—
not a cure:

no one but me can give me courage.

As my moment of weakness passes
I feel ashamed once again
but also think:

maybe later
I can use this moment
as a story lesson

later…
when I become someone
others will gladly endure.

 


© 2017, Michael R. Patton
Butterfly Soul: poems of death & grief & joy

crissy-listening-lg-dg-december-5-2016s

author’s note:

It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.
           — Bob Dylan
 

TO ALL YOU OTHER NOAHS

I am building an ark

my work guided
by a voice transcendent

asking me to believe
what I can’t yet see

but I blindly obey because
as carpenters, we learn
disasters can happen when
we refuse to listen…

yeah
doubt often lowers me down

but I lift myself
with this perspective:

maybe I am
making a grand mistake…

but if so
it’s wonderfully grand.
 


© 2016, Michael R. Patton
Survival: a poetry book

arrow spin b - May 15, 2016s

author’s note:

A companion poem to the last one posted.
 

FORWARD BACK

One morning on
a two-lane highway
my car suddenly spun
over black ice

and when the backend
had whipped to a stop
I faced the place
I’d just abandoned.

In that abrupt moment of stillness
I finally felt the echoing shout
of a deeper knowing—the alarm
I’d tried so hard to ignore.

What I did then is what
I knew I had to do—
yes, I returned.

Though I’ve learned to listen
to intuition
when the message
goes against my wishes
I may still allow my stubborn will
to drive—to drive me

until I go into a spin, another spin

then I’m willing to listen again

to something greater within—something
that will spin me until I change direction—

until I do what must be done

as for why I must do what I must
I usually can’t see

maybe even afterwards.
Maybe even long afterwards.

As for this return
I can only say for certain…

while in the box
I willfully seized
the opportunity
to lower down deeper
into my depths.

I believe I’ve received
high compensation
for this work in the mine

and yet…and yet
at times
doubt haunts my head:

did I return, in truth, because
I was afraid to go on…?

but no
though afraid
I was more afraid
of what my intuition said.

To listen to intuition
is listen to the heart

and if I obey
what my heart tells me
I’ll always act with courage

when spinning in the dark.
 


© 2016, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog

find COMMON COURAGE on amazon

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 608 other followers

Archives