Poem – Page 2 – Sigrid Mortensen

Poetry

Gifts

April 11, 2023

by Sigrid E. Mortensen

Imagine

If you will

That you are a child on Christmas morning.

You rush to the tree, as sleep still clings to your eyes,

And breathe a gasp of excitement

With a blink

Amazed

At your

Abundant

Pile of gifts

Wrapped in shiny paper

Each bearing your name

Each the promise of delights yet to come.

Image

Then

That mere moments later,

Your beloved friend stumbles into the room behind you

Just seconds after you have noticed

That his pile is smaller than yours,

The sizes of his boxes mere fractions yours

His total number fewer.

At that moment

You stand at the crossroad of two paths.

Hurriedly, you choose one.

Instinctively,

And out of love for your friend,

You shove your gifts behind you

Hide them in the shadows

So he cannot feel envy toward the

Unfairness, the

Inequity

Of your two piles.

He, too, is delighted

At first

That he has gifts

Then just as quickly thinks

But only because you have hidden them

That you have none.

Out of his love for you

He hides also

His gifts.

And although you know better

Because you have seen them,

He lies

A sweet lie

And tells you he has no gifts.

“Let us go play in the dirt together,”

He suggests.

And because you love him,

You follow him outside.

You can’t make much out of the dirt.

It is dry

And dusty

And doesn’t hold its shape

And even though you both know that just inside

Is a grand pile of hidden treasures

You both reason that it is better

That you both have nothing

Than for one to have more gifts

When the other has few

Or none.

Back in the room

The Gift Giver sits

A tear slowly tracing down her cheek.

She had so anticipated that each of you would

Open your gifts

That each of you would

Squeal with excitement

Over treasures chosen

Especially for you

Gifts labored over

Pondered

Sought out

Brought home

And lovingly wrapped.

She weeps at the quiet tragedy

Of gifts left

Unopened.

Imagine, now

Instead

That you had chosen the other path

And when your friend trailed behind you into the room

And spotted his bounty

You smiled with him.

You encouraged him to tear open his gifts

And he watched with shared pleasure as you opened yours

And you both delighted in each other’s good fortune.

And you noticed that

Although his gifts were smaller

And fewer than yours

Each was powerful

And suited perfectly to him.

And yours were plentiful because each was intended

To work with the others

In a way

Only you

Could combine

To create something beautiful with all of them.

He would not have wanted your gifts

And you would not have wanted his

But together, oh! What you can create!

Once unwrapped, your gifts can help you make something

Wonderful

To share with your friend.

And he can make from his something

Wonderful

To share with you.

And the Gift Giver sits back and smiles

Filled with a heart overflowing

Satisfied

That she knows you both so well

That she has given each of you

The perfect gifts

To share with each other.

To share with the world.

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Poetry

Quaker Quiet

February 24, 2023

by Sigrid E. Mortensen

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

February 24, 2023

By Sigrid E. Mortensen

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

February 24, 2023

by Sigrid E. Mortensen

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

On the Teaching of Critical Race Theory

February 13, 2023

by Sigrid E. Mortensen

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

April 10, 2024

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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