COME IN
LITTLE STONE
LITTLE STONE
I held a little granite stone
in my hand
this morning.
It spread warmth and peace
told about all it met.
Vast oceans, sands and light;
All compressed so very tight.
Matters from ground and sea
all telling us, about silence
about stillness that speaks;
About love.
The little stone spread energy
through my hand and mind.
© miriam ivarson
THE S O U N D
THE S O U N D
The sound of rain
needs no translation,
nor does the sound of trees;
Be it in stillness or storm.
They need no translation to any tongue.
They speak directly to the soul.
The grasses greeting the sun
as they come to life again
can only be understood by your heart.
As for the mighty seas and oceans
They are but sounds so great,
How could they ever be translated
when they speak directly to the heavens.
To your soul.
No translation could ever be as strong,
could ever be so pure:
No language capture its might.
Only stillness within will hear.
Will make your whole being sing.
© miriam ivarson
P E A R L S
P E A R L S
There are times you meet someone
A precious pearl in the business of life;
Like healing balm they are
with wise words and smiles.
Your whole being feels brighter
your eyes start shining again.
You treasure these pearls
whether they stay long or short
keeping them safely in your heart,
Take them out ever now and then.
Hoping that I might be a Pearl
and one day give light to someone;
Give kindness with deep attention,
switch on a light within them.
Pearls that they can also take out
ever now and again;
Make them smile and hum.
© miriam ivarson
MISTAKES
MISTAKES
Why do we make mistakes
did the choices look right at the time,
did a voice whisper no, did we ignore?
Did something glitter that had us in awe ?
Was it easier to take a skip and a spin
than contemplate for a while.
Taking time now, sitting by a stream
under a Birch and Spruce,
I can see that mistakes can lead to wonders
to joys that shine and give blessings.
So I feel a peace descending ,
could some mistakes be the foundation
of the shine and fullness I feel now.
Maybe the weave I wove with so many colours
created a work of art, just so.
Yes, there would be so many colours
blues from the sky, ocean and lakes.
Colours from rocks, trees and fields.
Streaks of black from the night woven in.
c/ miriam ivarson
THE CANDLE
THE CANDLE
I lit a candle this morning
so steady and calm it burnt,
erasing spinning thoughts.
I smiled my thanks.
Outside the lawn was proud
after the first cut of the year.
I smiled too at the early signs of spring;
Waking flowers and trees.
From slumber and hibernation.
As a little candle could do so much
what could we do?
If with a smile lit our faces
as we go about our days, and say hello
c/ miriam ivarson
M I S T
M I S T
Mysterious mist
greeted me this morning,
so fine, like sheer tulle.
Made me wonder what it hid.
As sun slowly and majestically rose
The woodland was revealed,
Tree by tree they appeared.
The mist giving in to the sun
seemingly reluctant but succumbed.
Two doves watched me standing there
smiling at my awe.
Before mist gave in, it was coloured
in the most incredible hues
So much beauty if we just look.
© miriam ivarson
S P O T L I G H T
SPOTLIGHT
When I was awake this night
at one, two or so
The room was lit like day,
It shouldn’t be, at
One, two or three or so.
Hesitant I walked to another room
opened the curtains and saw;
A blindingly shining moon.
Haven’t seen it like that before.
Its light gave me a feeling that
my house and street were singled out
By the Spotlight from above;
Never seen the moon so strong.
Did it twist just a tad
as to reflect more light from the sun.
Was the spotlight there so we can see,
See where we are heading on our planet.
Make us step with awareness and care.
c/ miriam ivarson
YOU SAW ME
YOU SAW ME
I rest in the arms of all memories we share,
Of laughter, joy and tears at times.
They bound us from childhood with trust;
With the knowledge of care.
“ You saw me “. This beautiful, written note
to his loved great grandfather when he passed,
from a young grandson who grieved.
Grieved his hero and friend.
Can it ever be greater than that,
To love and see deeply the soul inside.
c/ miriam ivarson
FLY PAST
Fly past of peace Mankind is fighting itself trying to find balance and peace. Yet, in the fighting more extinction occurs. How can killing and destruction ever lead to peace, to harmony and growth. It never did and never will. Yet most of us wish to live in unity, To sing, work and play To see our children grow, surrounded, yes, I say the word. Surrounded by love. We are all citizens of this World. c/ miriam ivarson
My Window 