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author’s note:
Hope you’re enjoying the Solstice season.
THE GOAT FAUN
The child inside
has on occasion convinced me:
we can make our fantasy a reality.
Like the time, years ago
when this fool tried to create magic
by going to a forest clearing
and calling to the goat faun
hoping to draw it from the shadows.
I chose that mythic creature
because the faun combines earth and sky
in the way it plays mad melodies
to the moon above
while dancing with nimble skill
through wooded dale
and stream
and hill.
But though I pushed notes
from my reed pipe
for at least an hour
the goat faun did not respond
to my heartfelt summons.
So I added a dance
to enhance my song—
I pranced
and leapt
and did pirouettes
in the moonlight.
But still no goat faun.
In all the years since
the faun has never once
answered my call.
Yet I keep coming back
to the clearing
because
I can feel
just a bit of it in me
whenever I performed that ritual.
By that I mean:
I feel the joy of wild mischief
and experience
a sense of my own deep earth
a sense of my own full moon.
Yes, all I ever get
is just a little bit
but a little bit of magic
is better
than no magic at all.
Myth Steps: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2024, Michael R. Patton

author’s note:
Posting this poem each year has become a Christmas tradition with me.
THE LIGHT OF DECEMBER AT MIDNIGHT
Night feels darker in December
and as I open to
the strange deep quiet
of Solstice
I stop my walk
to re-examine
the outdoor nativity scene
that before seemed so kitsch.
But now
I suddenly see
the pink plastic baby
lying in tinsel straw
is the new life
hidden in my heart–
a slow gestation,
the birth, not guaranteed.
Then I see
that glittery styrofoam star
is the wise one within–
the one who often sighs with sadness
at the sight of my rough antics.
Then–alas!–I see
that plywood cow beside the manger
is the domestic animal I usually am–
the unenlightened me.
Yes, this bovine is quite dim
but I can see my vision has improved–
consider this:
I’m seeing light I missed last year.
So this hope remains:
to eventually grow
into a wise old child
who can gaze into the mundane
and realize
the glory of its light.
Listening to Silence: poetry book
dream steps blog
myth steps blog
you tube channel
© 2022, Michael R. Patton
