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author’s note:
To all the penguins out there.
WHY I LOVE THE PENGUIN
Why did I respond so strongly
to that penguin video?
Why did I nearly cry
when I saw that little fellow waddle
over the white Antarctic ice?
And why did I sigh
when the bird plonked
into the chop of the sea
then glided
in intelligent undulations
down and down
through deeper shades of blue?
It flew through the water
on wings that before seemed useless.
Maybe in that waddler
I saw how I usually am in the world.
And maybe in that sleek swimmer
I saw my secret desire.
When I go below the surface
I feel the grace within.
A quiet intensity that defies expression
so for the purposes of this poem
I will call it “soul”
knowing that those who read poets
will understand
what I mean when I say:
I feel more grace, more soul
the deeper I go.
But I’ve never been able
to go deep enough
to know pure grace, pure soul.
Like the penguin
I’m only able to stay under a short time
then I must emerge
to waddle around on the ice once more.
I enjoyed the penguin before—
it looked so cute in its tuxedo.
But now I love the penguin
having witnessed
its deep desire for soul.
Listening to Silence: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
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© 2025, Michael R. Patton
author’s note:
When one dog barks, one hundred dogs bark.
— old Chinese proverb
WHAT THE SLED DOG FOUND
The sled dog
woke in the starry arctic night
with the strange sense
that somewhere out there in the darkness
a secret world waited to be discovered—
a reality as yet unknown.
So while her minders slept
she wandered away from the team
knowing she’d never return.
Searching for a fantasy, perhaps
but
considering the stress and rush
of her daily routine
perhaps not such a foolish act.
A season has passed since then
and she still hasn’t found
the trail to that mystery world.
And so her ache has only grown:
a pain of desire—
a desire she has tracked
down
and down
to new depths in the heart.
The feeling demands expression.
So every evening she sits down
and begins to howl
from deep deep down.
Recently, on a new moon night
a mad wind carried her howl
to a snow dog faraway
stirring him from his slumbers.
The feeling in the sound roused
a feeling deep within him
and so he also begin to howl
from deep deep down.
The start of a chain reaction, it seems:
since then one dog after another
has been perked by some version of the howl
and by responding
each has discovered a truth
deep deep down—
the desire for a life greater, grander
than the one they know now.
The sled dog may never find
that new world. But
what she uncovers in her search
will awaken new life
in this old dog world.
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: ‘Cause you can never tell What goes on down below! This pool might be bigger Than you or I know! -- Dr. Seuss INTO THE LOOKING GLASS POOL They said: that’s you. Me? That tater head was me? I stared hard—then harder but that face still seemed so strange. Finally, I lost patience and crawled away from the glass— I would explore the outer world instead. However the faces I saw now seemed just as peculiar as that one in the mirror. And my efforts to understand them soon ended with the admonition: don’t stare at people. So I returned to my own face. Some will surely say You’re like that fellow in the story-- Narcissus. No— he only gazes at the surface whereas I try to see beneath and often I don’t love what I discover. However I refuse to look away because an explorer must be brave. But sometimes I need encouragement so I tell myself: don’t let the pain you find blind you to the complex wonder which is the human being and whenever you encounter a ferocious sea serpent in the shadowy depths... try to see his good side.
The Truth of the Dream: poetry book
myth steps blog
dream steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton
author’s note:
Do not resist the rose
lest you burn in its fire.
-- Gabriela Mistral (trans. L. Hughes)
OLD SONG OF YOUTH
The poets of old were right:
spring does indeed sing
in the zesty blood of youth.
I remember a spring day years ago--
oh how I tried to ignore
that playful song
and focus on my schoolwork.
But then the rhapsody raised its pitch--
crying of sex, yes, but something more than sex.
So I stopped to listen
and began to feel
the bright green of spring
singing in my blood.
But though my spirit begged for expression
I fastened my mind and body down—
down!
Sitting here, decades later
I chide that starved student in my head--
telling him
he should’ve surrendered
and run through the blazing green fields.
But I’m cut short
as a breeze gushes
through the window--
in the rush
I swear I hear that dizzy kid whisper:
I’m still in your heart.
Suddenly
I feel the wild green song
move in my blood again—
no, not as fresh now
but with age comes a richer shade.
Today unlike yesterday
I’ll sing along--
I will go out into the spring field.
No, I can’t gallop as I once did
but the confinement of slower steps
will give me the time needed
to feel and to sing a deeper song.
finding Beauty: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2023, Michael R. Patton
Michael Patton
sky rope (subterranean rappel) 