The Rock

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The Rock                           

I laid down on a rock,
large, smooth, pink granite,
warmed by the sun.

Timeless energies from the rock,
enveloped me;

Soothed my muscles,
received my pains.
Gave ease, relaxation and peace.
A glow spreads within, 

The birth of joy.

The sound from the sea
Joins the symphony,
waves rhythmically lapping the shore,
Singing their eternal song.

I drift into altered consciousness,
of wholeness and clarity.
A sweet voice says “are you o.k.?”
Blessings are complete.

With a smile I rise,
we continue to throw.
Pebbles that skip on the waves.

© miriam ivarson

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B o r d e r s

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Borders                                            

When does a river become a sea
the sweet water turn salty,
does it just flow and mingle?
Mingle in harmony,

How does a mountain become,
yours or mine, his or hers,
is it not always just its mighty self?
Part of the Earth, the wind, the Universe.

So tell me, how can we put borders
on mountains, in rivers and the sea,
How can we draw lines on the ocean,
on mighty mountains lay claim?

How can we, with impudence
Claim the Whole for ourselves

© miriam ivarson

Tor Heyerdahl quote

D A N C E

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DANCE

Dance as if freedom is yours, your right,
sing as if all are free, like heaven above,
smile the guileless smile of a child;

Dance to the song of life,

history will tell me I am wrong
so will the news,
that evil is inherent in man;
That my dreams are naive,

maybe so, my friends, yet
you might also find,
your beauty, your song.
Hidden under historical wrongs;

Let us choose the light
and not imitate the throng,
nor applaud just because …
Without thought, without reflection.

Believe in you, in us, in freedom
Dance in the sun with a guileless smile.

© miriam ivarson

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DRIFTWOOD

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DRIFTWOOD

washed up on the shore,
so exquisite, so polished;
Feels like silk in my hands,

For days, weeks or longer
it has travelled,
across oceans and seas,

hammered against rocks
varnished by sand.

Reminding me of many unfortunates,
living in the shady side of our cities,
by gleaming edifices of beauty and wealth;

Driftwood of humanity.

Playthings to those who exploit,
sleeping in doorways, under bridges,
washed up from an ocean of society;
There was no space for them within,

they see the sun, feel the rain,
but can they feel joy?
when their mattress is concrete?

meanwhile we sleep in soft beds
pampered and fed.

How my heart bleeds
wishing to rescue, to help;
Praying those with knowledge will,
as I give my support,

yet the sorrow and helplessness is there.
Around the corner glittering skyscrapers stand
holding wealth beyond sense.

Still, I pick driftwood by the shore,
feeling it’s journey in my hands;
Journey across oceans free,

Washed by the sea
Kissed by the sun.

© miriam ivarson

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A bit of my heart

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A bit of my heart

I send out, as I publish thoughts and dreams,
yet the heart remains unbroken;
being replenished,
filled
By the act of giving.

It is a moment of “knife-edge”, a friend said,
do you give or do you withhold,
take the risk of being misunderstood

Or just ignored.

Is it the fear of being unseen,
creating hesitation,

like a child building a castle of sand
wanting praise and smiles,
To be known.

Creating is a force within,
without outlet we burst;
Let it flow with abundance,
Never to be a chore.

It is enough if a soul or two
recognise each other,
find succour in the words.

Share song and tears
with free and trusting hearts.

© miriam ivarson

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PER UNIVERSUM

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Dear fellow scribblers, writers, authours and poets. Whichever title
we choose, we share the love of words and believe in their power.
We walk this beautiful Earth together – Star dusts as we are.

One, nowadays quite mundane experience we share, is the joy or stress
of economy short haul flights. I do fly many of these within Europe and especially to visit Sweden. Using the practice of non-thinking
mode helps. Just shuffle forward, stopping, shuffling…
Eventually sit down in your seat and visualize the relief of stepping off at the destination. 

It was on one of these flights that I unexpectedly experienced what 
became the poem “ Per Universum”. Such a quiet and smooth boarding.
What a blessing that flight was. 

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PER UNIVERSUM

I flow through universe,
It flows through me.
Can’t say where one starts,
Or did we always belong?

I am It and universe me.
extraordinary feeling, at 36000 feet,
safe and warm.

Three monks in row behind,
meditate.

Journey flows, in peace.
Universe is me, I am It.
Oh to keep this surety;
36000  below.

where  I meet problems, tempers,
unformed thoughts.
Yet mindful of angels on the path,

who also flow through universe,
In  tranquil unity.

They are everywhere
I see clearly;
We make up universe,
Angels with spirit
Clear and kind.

Through universe we flow
and It through us.
Ever increasing harmony.

© miriam ivarson

 

FEROCIOUS EGO

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Ferocious Ego

Mingling among the festive crowd,
a party in lively swing,
I was struck by the conversation
or the lack thereof.
Many had much to say,
louder and louder.
Few did listen nor respond.

A greedy entity ruled,
Ego was its name.

Happily the triffid fed
Growing, thriving,
Gluttonous.

Unhindered it will expand,
causing damage untold,
Including wars, suppression, greed.
Given the chance.

Unmask this mutant called Ego,
Stand it naked in clear light.

Take a daily inventory
of our inner selves.
Our aims, our thoughts;
so we can stop.
Ego’s mushrooming growth.

As long as it rules
We will never live:
Just exist in the future,
The past
In more.
Never now.

© miriam ivarson

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Whispering Wings

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Whispering Wings

They whisper as the breeze in the cottonwood trees,
as the grass drinking morning dew,
like a butterfly languidly moving its wings;
Just being its subliminal self,

Whisperings from small branches
moving gently in soft breeze,
Like Dragonfly hovering, such beauty
are their shimmering wings.

I lie down in the meadow with deep content,
hear the morning birds join in
singing sheer songs of life and joy,
partaking with delicacy and  skill.

Whispering like the hope in our hearts,
finding the tune we recognise from afar,
Songs sung for eternities
losing each other, but now

Recognising the whisperings anew.

© miriam ivarson

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Lines in the Sand

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I did post a rather serious but hopefully positive poem last week
so felt that something gentle and warming was in order.

As it happens there was a prompt some weeks ago and I felt tempted 
for the first time; I must admit that I have only written three poems
where the title was given. This prompt though rang well with me. It was called “ Lines in the Sand”.

My version is romantic and hopefully will warm your hearts. 

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Lines in the Sand                                   

We drew lines in the sand,
you and I
after walking hand in hand
along the ocean front,
seeing so many wrinkles in the sand;

Lines that little waves made.

Our hearts filled with song
as our eyes met and held,
deep and questioning,
but shy of our love,

looking at life forms in the sand,
angel crabs, shells and such,
all the while wondering how to say;
I love you.

A stick of flotsam, no two
drifted in to the strand,
we picked one each
And wrote in the sand,

I love you.

© miriam ivarson

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Power of Spirit

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 Power of Spirit

We often hear the word, Fight
Negative in its perception.
They fought to the end
Against cancer, disease,
crime, drugs and terror.

Yet, the people I know
who met these adversities
Have taught me what peace,
and real courage mean,

as they persist in enjoying each day
more than ever before.
Seeing clearly the preciousness,
of life and love.
Their smiles humble me.

Crime is rising, so is emptiness;
Lack of spiritual clarity and light.
Drugs, the false antidote
to desolation, inanity,
Pursued goals barren.

More and more now choose,
to spend their days creatively,
maybe less paid.
The gain is a life fulfilled;
In harmony.
                               
As body and mind belong
In unity,
might it not be the truth,
That a happy and positive mind
moulds a better vessel,
Within which to reside.

© miriam ivarson

photo courtesy of pixaby