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dear reader:

Allow me to repeat myself:

At my death, I hope someone says: “He fought the good fight.”
 

THE GOOD FIGHT

In the dream, I knelt down

into a circle of light
found on the floor
of a dusty dark tunnel

and in an instant
an upswell of energy
saturated me—a sensation
both buoyant and dense—

my whole being hummed
with the grand expansion

yet at the same time
I felt diminished
by a power so great:
consumed—overwhelmed

I soon woke in fear

and immediately lost the feeling

then cursed my weakness

as I often do
when I give in
to lower instinct
and reject what
my higher instinct desires.

However
I didn’t lose completely:

whenever I remember
that underground light
I can sense (just vaguely)
that force of peace
within me—

within me
yet frightfully foreign:

I doubt I could ever
live with that mysterious intensity
for more than
the occasional moment.

But no matter—
a recent dream shows me
determined to return—
fighting

through a dusty storm wind
toward a dim distant light

and though I feel so weak

the exhilaration spurs me on.
 

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
my war for peace: poetry ebook

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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:

Do we become stronger or do we gradually realize how strong we actually are?
 

THE FABLE OF THE OLD MAN & THE BUMPKIN

An old man sitting in a tree
begged a young bumpkin
passing by on the path below
to carry him across the river.

The lad gladly complied…

but when he reached the opposite side
he felt the burden lift from his back
then turned to find
the old man laughing
in the branches of that tree
where our story began.

But that’s not the end:
he’s toted that codger
over the water
again and again and again

even though the geezer merely whistles
when asked how and why
he keeps vaporizing.

So stop
I told the green rustic

to which he replied:
Just look how strong
my arms and legs and back
have become

and besides
this way
I get to help someone else
not just once…not just twice
but as many times as I wish.

 

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
myth steps blog

author’s note:

What do I want people to say about me upon my demise?

“He fought the good fight.”
 

GOOD LIFE…GOOD DEATH

At my ending
I think I’ll have courage enough
not to fight
to prolong a life
no longer needed

because in this life
I have fought to overcome
my fear of freedom—

yes, I’ve warred within—
struggling to reject
enticing confinements
that would have been
living tombs.

So maybe at the end
I’ll have the strength
to release a good life
and embrace a good death.
 

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
my war for peace: poetry ebook

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