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author’s note:

“We experience a dream as real because it is real.”
              — Dr. William C. Dement
 

MY BETTER WORLD

The excited uncertainty
of crossing a stone bridge in dark fog

ended
before I’d reached the end—ended
with the alarm of morning

and as I began my usual routine
the intensity faded
and I forgot the dream

until that afternoon:

while waiting to cross a city street
I suddenly recalled the night bridge
hidden and revealed and hidden
by the tease of shifting clouds

and as the feeling returned
my day world of blatant sunlight
became as real as that dream:

the traffic light warning me…
the bleached grey fence…
a vacant lot overgrown with weeds—
all seemed strangely alive

and I felt myself to be
an alien spirit
discovering a wonderland

then the light changed
and as my attention shifted
that sense of intensity faded:

once again I was
a lowly armadillo
grubbing along the asphalt.

However
that feeling of living
in a grander world
is not lost, only asleep

and sometimes
stirs from slumber
to end my daydream.

I then remember
I am more than a mere
creature of survival.
 

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

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author’s note:

Not only is the Universe stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.
         — Sir Arthur Eddington
 

UNIQUE BROADCAST FREQUENCY

If I hold very still
when I’m in
that gray place between
waking and sleep…

in the extended silence
my inner ear may detect
a word or phrase
from a voice—
unknown
yet somehow familiar.

Maybe it’s merely the “me”
within me…

but how do you explain those times
when we meet someone
   who seems familiar
   though a still a stranger
and the words just flow
as if we’re continuing a conversation—
maybe one begun long ago…?

Based on such experience
I postulate:
at night, as the conscious mind rests
we transmit messages—
often across vast distances.

I realize I’m not being
very scientific
but
I believe it’s best to believe
that every individual in our world
owns a unique broadcast frequency—

in this way, at least
we the people have equality.
 


© 2018, Michael R. Patton
listening to silence: poetry ebook

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

author’s note:

I dedicate this poem to all those of my generation who hoped the Carlos Castaneda books were true accounts.

So, in part, I dedicate this poem to myself.
 

MEDITATING UPON A CENTIPEDE

Once in a forest, alone
I tried to force my eyes open

driven by the desire to see
the mysteries
of a spirit world I sense
all around me.

For many minutes I peered
into the darkness of the trees—
I stared—I squinted—
trying to pierce the curtain

until nearly blind with frustration…

finally I sank down to rest
on a stump by a dry brook

but in the quiet defeat
of this convalescence
I slowly forgot myself

as my empty eyes began to fill
with the grand beauty
of a centipede
humbly soldiering
through a rich wasteland
of gray-brown leaves:

such intelligence in those little legs!

I watched until
the tails disappeared
into a miniature door
at the base of the stump

but a few more moments passed
before I came back to myself—
suddenly I realized
I’d entered an elevated state—

maybe now
the mysteries of the world
would open to me—!

But that desire, returning so abruptly
broke the peace
and I returned to being the lesser being.

Thus
the secrets I wished to see
remained secrets.

I then cursed my impulse

until I realized:
without this drive
I could not endure
the tedious process of opening
to the truth of a hidden world
we all secretly know.
 

© 2017, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog

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