Monthly Archives

February 2023

Poetry

Quaker Quiet

by Sigrid E. Mortensen 

© 2023

Quaker.

Quiet.

Simply silence

Listening, rapt.

Held in Light.

Wrapped

In the loving embrace

Of community.


I double it over

Crease it

Tuck it into the pocket of my heart

Draw it out at home

Unfold it

Revisit it in 

Daily

Practice:

Opening

Softening

Receiving, the

Voice, the

Wisdom, the

Guidance from the Godhead.


The Joy is in the 

Seeking, the

Asking, the

Reading, the

Endless Quest to fit

Words to the 

Ineffable.

Like tunes from programmed meetings

That tease me in my dreams

And only upon awakening: the lyrics

Remembered

A message

Strong, yet subtle.


I am infused

Imbued

Illuminated.

Lit from within.

Radiating

Outward.

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Poetry

Combination

By Sigrid E. Mortensen

© 2023

When the dial glides easily

With a flick of the fingers….


When it spins just the right amount

With smooth, quiet ticks

In just the right direction

To land on the perfect

Destination

Numbers only now remembered….


When barrels tumble

And give

And yield,

And metal clicks

And sighs,

And with a satisfying clunk

The lock falls open

Heavy and cold

In the palm of your hand

And you stare at it

As startled at it is

That it surrendered ground so quickly….


When you can slide that crooked shaft

Soundlessly from its rusty latch

And the heavy door 

Held shut for years

Opens with a whisper….


When sunlight streams through the opening

Motes dancing on beams

And blinds your face with warmth

And recognition….


When all resistance falls away,

When muscles long held tense

For reasons you can no longer quite recall

Melt into acceptance….


When you know

Without a solitary doubt

That you never had a reason to fear

Or worry

Or fret….


When you remember,

“Oh, yes!

This is how I let go!

And this is what it feels like to

Invite those shy gremlins of fun

And play

And joy

To peek from behind the corner

And run into my world

Skipping

And scrambling

And giggling,

Glad to be a part of my game….”


It is in these moments

That you free yourself from the barriers that

Only you

Could have placed on the gates

Keeping you safe from

Who 

Knows what?


It is then that you remember

Who you are

And why you’re here

And all you have to offer.


It is then that you unlock

The full potential

Of your creative

Genius

And bask in the

Openness

Of your 

Unguarded

Heart.

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Poetry

Followers

by Sigrid E. Mortensen

© 2023

We have followers

Each one of us

A haunting chant that lingers through the day.


We have followers

Admirers, true

Who care deeply what we think

And say.


Ancestral lines

Braid threads behind us

Weaving love to wrap around us

Whispering hopes into our ears

And bold ideas that lift 

And guide us

Encouragements to stay our fears.


We have friends

Whose feet have not

Trod this sod in lifetimes

Yet whose keen attention marks

The passing of each hour

As closely as our very breath.


We have likes

And friends

And fans

Whose love with ours entwines

Whose light could not be 

Snuffed

Extinguished even

Yet

By bodily death.


Our followers require of us 

No thing

No posts

No tweets

No messaging.


They want

Just

The occasional nod

To quiet ghosts

A seeing

Knowing

Recognition

Of their active being.


“Notice us

Our love

Our sweetness.

Feel etherial kisses

Eternal caresses 

Brushed oh

So gently

Softly 

Upon your 

Beloved cheek.”

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Poetry

If you Prick Me

by Sigrid E. Mortensen

© 2023

If you prick me

I bleed words

Words that drip

And trickle

And pool

Into patterns on paper

Patterns that have meaning

Patterns like ink blots

Patterns for those who see more in ink blots

Than ink blots.


If you prick me

I bleed truth

Not a Universal Truth

Perhaps

That can be transfused into every soul

But one that can save a spirit or two

If his type is a match

To mine.


If you cut me and the wounds are deep

I may apply a tourniquet

That stems the bleeding.


But a prick

A small prick

Barely noticed in my busy life

Rises in a bead

During quiet moments

And flows like ink

Onto an empty page.

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by Sigrid E. Mortensen

© 2023

Why should I feel guilty

For the color of my skin?


I was not there

When the Black Man was stolen from his home.


It was not I who lashed his wrists to oars, or

Whipped his back until bloody

As he rowed himself to terrifying servitude.


It was not I who sold him on the block like cattle,

Tore him from mother

From wife

From father

From child.


It was not I who placed him behind the plow

And beat him into submission

Until he toiled for me.


It was not I who pursued him if he ran

Then thrust him back into chains.


I should not feel shame for the color of my skin.


And neither should he.


That I rarely do

And he often does

Is a measure of imbalance.


That I am comfortable in my legacy of prosperity

And he wrestles to survive

Is a measure of imbalance.


Until balance is restored,

Until black mothers perish in childbirth

No more often than their white counterparts,

Until opportunities are as rich for one

As they are for another,

I will not feel shame,

But take action

With my voice

With my vote

With my compassion

With my seeing.


I will see the truth.

I will see the struggle.

I will see the struggles

Of those whose skin

Is a different color

From mine.

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Poetry

Let’s Pretend

by Sigrid E. Mortensen © 2023

Let’s pretend!

Let’s pretend the we live in a world

Where everyone gets what they need

To survive

And to thrive.


Let’s pretend that we live in a world

Where love,

Where energy flows,

Fills the eddies in each of us

Swirls and delights

Tickles and teases

Until the currents continue on

To others.


Let’s pretend that we live in a world

Where work is play

And shoulds are wants

And inspiration clicks on

As easily as flicking a light switch.


Let’s pretend we live in a world

Of comfort

And ease

Where my gain

Is your gain

My win

Is your win, too.


Let’s pretend we live in a world

Where technology is indistinguishable 

From magic.

And magic is real.


In this world

Each of us is valued

And cherished

For the marvels that we are

And burdens are eased

Until they are no more.


Let us live in that world.

Let’s make the pretend

Real.

Let’s play in a world

Of wonder.

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