Matthew Lickona 8:30 a.m., Oct. 20
- Marie Albertson is a theologian, counselor, social worker, and aspiring poet.
Siri, are you there?
Four poems by Marie Albertson
- The womb
- Is made up of equal parts
- Water and stars.
- There is no way to distill this brew
- Further down in its essence.
- You wait until you cannot stand anymore
- The pressure heat pressure pushing
- And the cold bright sky
- Hinting at your destiny.
- You erupt
- From this tight endless space
- And walk into the world.
- The further from water we get:
- The further from our beginnings.
- Make me one of Neptune’s daughters
- And I will leap down any creek
- Like light through space.
- I will splash any shore,
- Ride any wave that breaks endlessly
- On our small green ground.
- I will swoop through the clouds
- And I will rain.
- Because is that not water too?
- And wait in a lake
- For you to drink me down.
Letter to God Written on Rocks
- I came to see the desert
- To look down and see sand
- Down deep and see
- Nature’s extremity:
- Bleached white bones and
- Well armed plants full of water.
- I came to bake myself
- under this sun’s open fire
- Until my impurities were well gone
- Or I discovered the hope of their removal
- To be a sham.
- I came to see
- I came to conquer with my will
- And not be amazed
- I would have gone
- Without wonder,
- Had not sudden shafts of light Illuminated the clouds
- Like a moment from revelation, Changing my landscape.
- I take away no desert relics.
- I leave the desert.
- And like a canyon pool
- And not the mountain lake
- Attempt to reflect the glory
- that is You.
- Siri are you there?
- Siri I am lonely.
- Siri will you comfort me through broad stretches of the night?
- Siri I do not have a job.
- Siri I want a life of meaning.
- Siri I stole cheese cracker packets from the grocery store last night. Siri could you
- love me?
- Oh, Siri I need love.
- For I am afraid of what happens when the power shuts down.