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author’s note:
After trying for 18 years, maybe I’ve finally gotten this poem right.
Maybe.
YOUR LIGHT
Though you left the room
many years ago
your light still helps me see.
When I choose
to look at this world
through your luminous eyes
I see light I might otherwise miss:
Yesterday, I saw a beam shoot
from an open hand.
And today I witnessed
a fist leaking light
from between its fingers.
Occasionally I even see
the light you swore you saw in me.
When I lift my eyes
sometimes I see you at night—
a star among the many stars
who guide desperate ships to port.
Butterfly Soul: poetry book
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myth steps blog
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© 2025, Michael R. Patton
author’s note:
Is Death a “he”?
Yes—if Birth is a “she”.
HOW TO MAKE DEATH SMILE
As is typical of youth
when I was young I ignored
the possibility I could die young.
Even as I watched
so many with the same blindness
stumble into graves.
Only later
as I looked back
did I see how lucky I’d been.
I then began to step more carefully.
But now as I watch
so many my age
retire to their graves
I worry I’m becoming
just a little too cautious.
The life I’m afraid to lose
won’t have much life
if I don’t follow
the true desire of my spirit
which was and still is:
to go forth and know the world.
So though my legs tremble
I will stretch my stride.
No, the width won’t match that of my youth.
But the stubborn fool I am now
shows more courage
than the obtuse fool I once was
because now I can feel Death
watching me and waiting
as I struggle on these steps.
But my reaper is not so grim.
No, beneath that black hood
he smiles wide in appreciation.
Death sees I am doing
what he wants us to do:
to grow in strength
by confronting
the deep fear that keeps us alive.
Survival: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
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© 2025, Michael R. Patton
author’s note:
Another drop.
NOT EVANESCENT
Lao Tzu said
the Ancient Sages
were as evanescent
as icicles.
How can that be?—
according to the dictionary
“evanescent” means:
here one moment and gone the next.
But ages have passed
and the words of the sages still live.
I can’t expect the same good fortune
so as my icicle dwindles down
drop…by drop…by drop…by drop
I’m trying to come to terms with the loss
by repeating these lines to myself:
after I’m gone
whatever I’ve given
(whatever that may be)
will remain in our well—
perhaps hidden underground
but there, nonetheless.
Get the Message: a short guide for understanding dreams
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
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© 2024, Michael R. Patton
author’s note: Poet, Heal Thyself: poetry book
Physician, heal thyself.
— Luke 4:23
FABLE OF THE WOMAN WHO SAVED A WOUNDED BIRD
Years ago, a young girl
tried and failed
to save a dying bird chick.
A sincere effort.
But what she didn’t know was:
she saw herself in that bird.
Later
she decided to help save human beings
by becoming a nurse.
A sincere aspiration.
But what she didn’t know was:
in so many faces
she saw that dying bird chick.
Later
after witnessing so much death
she decided to help save human beings
by ascending to the pulpit.
A sincere aspiration.
But what she didn’t know was:
she now hoped to save
that dying bird chick
by saving its soul.
Over the years, she received much praise
for her work as a preacher and nurse.
Nonetheless
she still felt a vague malaise.
Finally, in desperation
she asked her mirror
what the problem was
and then
in the reflection looking back
she saw that dying bird chick.
From that point on
she became her own patient.
From that point on
she became her own flock.
Later, she returned
to the twin tasks of tending
to the bodies and spirits
of wounded human beings.
But now her aspirational efforts
produce even better results
and though she doesn’t say
she knows the reason why:
People who want to open
but don’t trust
may open
when they experience
a server who lives in peace—
someone who has saved
her own bird chick.
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton
Michael Patton
sky rope (subterranean rappel) 