The Spark and the Chain

A Chain of People – © 2019 Patrick Canganelli.

I fell
the deep well.

I lay breathless at the bottom
how long

in my nightmare
I saw a strange spark
and the spark became
a flame
and the flame
it burned until I
could not see
but I awoke
and gripped the walls
of my oubliette.
I determined
to climb my way out.
at the top
I struggled
until my feet were on the ground.
I stood straight up
and peered into
the sky.

I looked around
and everywhere
I saw people struggling
out of the
places where they had fallen.

I determined
to meet
with everyone.

I must know what
sent us to dark places
but more importantly
I long to keep
my fellows from falling.

let’s go arm in arm together
and form
a chain –
a human chain
of caring

and if I fall
please help me out
and know
that if you fall
I will be there
attended by the human chain
we will help each other
until no one falls.

we will build our chain
of love
the rescue pod
encircles the earth.

I hear you calling
but we are right here,
lifting you up.

I saw a spark.
and it grew
into a chain
that binds us all.
and someday
with your help
no one

© 2019 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.

A Dove

dove on window sill

a dove came to my window
it lighted on the sill.
it’s there still.
every day it comes.
it coos and flutters
making lonely sounds
but I am cheered
because the shared loneliness
brings comfort
and I can’t wait to see my friend.

© 2019 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.


The High and Far Road

© 2008 Patrick Canganelli.

high road
far road
hiking to meet you
there on the hill
to speak of where each of us has been
to reminisce and to plan
for tomorrow.
no need to whisper
our voices
will never say anything
or unkind
we are talking
of how to build a better home
when we are done here
I will travel
and you will travel
onto the next road
past many meadows
crossing a field perhaps.
oh hello,
would you speak with me?
might we make a plan together?
will you then travel down the road
a high road
a far road,
to places that need a visit
places that travelers don’t often see
places not left behind
but overlooked
places neglected
but we will not neglect
we are, together,
out to find the high road
and the far road.
past all the towns
and lights,
I will see you then.

© 2019 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.

Standing on the Cold Rock

man on rocks with sun
Standing on the rocks

Standing on the cold wet
windswept rock,
atop the outcrop
jutting out into the cold tumultuous sea
a thick fog—
but through a small patch of sky
I spot a mist-encircled setting sun.
my feet are bare
and ache from the water that
rushes up and over rocks
but I feel a part of it all—
the distant sun
lends its rays of hope
and the cold waters answer
through me
to the vast expanse
of sky
that carries infinitesimal droplets
of the sea,
and clinging to the moisture
are my hopes
and my deep states of unconsciousness.
on the surface I am the averaging of sunlight
and water’s depth
but inside
I harbor fantastic anomalies.
and I long to impart
some great waveform
that will light the sky
and earth
and mingle
with the sun cradled in the distant haze.
I wish to travel to where the arc of heaven
and bring my cold feet
and shimmering breath
to rest upon the splines
of matter,
and point my finger
to somewhere beyond
where I am and who
I have become.

© 2019 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.

May I Present

sparkles (4).jpg
Sparkle (photo © 2013 Patrick Canganelli.)

May I present
an image of God,
poised to touch the singularity.
In a moment He will ignite the process that creates the universe.
everything gushes forward and outward
His spirit accompanies it all,
between the loops and folds,
deeper than all the dimensions.
If you travel to the farthest reaches
and turn in on the smallest pinpoint of matter,
you must dive down inside,
look with your mind
and so be startled,
as I am,
that He is already there,
just as He is seen when we zoom out
to behold all galaxies
which also become pinpoints
as we fly back to Heaven.
I wish to return
but I also long to come and go
and discover
at every turn
my loving Father.
He is there
and He is here,
and we can find Him in an instant—
just look anywhere
and call His name.
He has already answered.
He returned everything to everyone
before the requests were even made.
Vast stretches.
They are all the same.
We are pinpoints.
and we are vast stretches.
And He has answered everything.
If we can but peer past the great distance
and find Him.
But wait.
I can see we are already there.
Love in an instant,
and Love stretches beyond everything
to where we all began.
May I present this image
that I have seen.

© 2019 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.

The Sun Must Come Again

an image painted from a dream of a sunburst, by Patrick Canganelli, (C) 2019.
Sunburst – © 2019 Patrick Canganelli.

This dollop of blazing honey,
whose kin are the splatter of
infinity in the night sky–
this one is mine.

I shall cherish it, even as its favor slips out of sight,
and two slim tunnels of darkness
are the scope of all I see.

But then, my scream will reach
the far corners of my domain:
You must come again,
for in me there is a soul
which dies without
your penetrating smile,
and this spirit never will let
me rest but that we
must yearn for your return.

I call to you now, my orb of fortune,
so do not leave me orphaned
in your flight;
or is it true
you do not know,
each dawn finds an embryo in me
which ages as the dying ember leaves.

© 2006 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.  

(Excerpted from The Noumena, by Patrick Canganelli.  Available from

The Expedition

moon striations
Striations of the moon – © 2019 Patrick Canganelli.

A hidden voice whispers
an unfocused feeling,
igniting the quanta of my mind
(the children of my reflection)
which shoot out like stars
into the vastness of what may be.
They shoot up towards the sky
and rush through
its sweet gaseous amnion,
and leave the bubble burst below.
They make vectors towards
the moon
(a monument of vectors)
where asteroids
carved luminous striations
on the facets of a satellite
Together we carve our way to where
the rain never comes.
We are the rain.
We shower on the galaxy
and bring possibilities
not far removed from

© 2019 Patrick Canganelli, All rights reserved.