Where does time go

Where does time go

does it go, is our perception askew?
What if time just is? Always there.
Moving like the clouds, like the waves

Being always time, sky and sea.

What about us? Are we just living linear
or are we fluent too?
Always part of the Stars, the Universe, Earth,
living all the time.

Don’t let us limit ourselves with numbers and dates.

Live in peaceful meditation or stormy dance
in Love, always in Love.

With tears when they come and smiles of a child.

© miriam ivarson

Age Old Song

Age Old Song

I walked down to the harbour today
drawn by the scent of the sea;
Before me I saw a scene of life and strength.

Trawlers had arrived back
from their week long work at sea,
from fishing and other lands.

Laughter, strength and sheer vitality;
Filled the air with age old song.

I loved it down there, watching and listening
keeping myself out of the way.
My father knew where I was and gave me a wink,
came and lifted me to the sky.

They loved their work, these men of the sea,
it was hard but they were strong and free.
Their stories fascinated me.

As the men withdrew to BOA,
a centre for repairing nets and making new,
for sharing news and laughs, bellyfuls.
It was also where the Storyteller held forth.

Fantastic stories and wisdoms held all enthralled,
as hands flew at tasks and laughter rose.

In the homes women happily worked,
cooking and singing;
Their men were safely home.

At BOA work and stories paused
as husbands and fathers longed
for their women, children. For home.

Happy as a bird I walked home
my little hand in pappas hand, so strong and safe.

Reaching home my mamma held her arms outstretched,
pappa lifted her up and walking around
sang her a song of love and fun;
A song all his own.

All five chicks following them around
waiting patiently for their turn.

Such joy reigned in our abode.

© miriam ivarson

THE MANTLE

THE MANTLE

Write, my friend, write
Let your heart pour forth,
with honesty tell your truth.

May your words always be interspersed
with threads of gold,
weaving life, shining into your thoughts.

Into your woven cloth.

With silver moon beams,
Do the same
let them shimmer in dark corners,
lighten your mind.

These threads of gold and silver rays
Represent love and hope;
Without, your cloth will dull and die.

Once created, keep it as your mantle,
Your blanket;
So you will never forget,

The importance of light

© miriam ivarson

THE COIN

THE COIN

I saw a coin, inscribed FEAR
Lying there in the mud,
I picked it up and felled
tears of sadness for mankind.

Turning the coin around a wonder happened
my tears washed the mud away,
It now shone and said HOPE
.

This is what I now wish for you and me
Hope in good for Earth and us.

© miriam ivarson

Unravelling Emotions

Unravelling Emotions

I am in shock with all this relaxation
my friend said to me this morning;
Startled I thought, how could that be?

Could all the tight knots have unravelled too fast,
causing emotions to swing – all lose;
Even a bit giggly or softly smiling

As again she could feel, happiness and breeze.

It took a long gentle sleep filled with dreams,
Dreams of clouds forming shapes in the sky
of walks on soft sand along the sea.

No frightening numbers filled the morning today,
just joy of being, simply being alive.
To see white doves on neighbours roof
and small birds busy feeding in the garden,

On feeders my friend filled last night.

© miriam ivarson

Pinprick of Blue

Pinprick of Blue

Each morning I stand for a while in awe,
in front of the windows facing East.
I drink into my being the wonder of Sun’s rise;
Gradually the beauty colours my inner Self.

As the sun dramatically but calmly spreads its rays
filling the sky in glorious hues,
Colours that give praise
superior to the flight of words.

How lucky I am to share this rhythmic splendour
as Earth and sun dance.

I have seen it over oceans, over mountains
Over forests and fields,
over rooftops in hamlets and towns.

I still dream of seeing
the sun rise over desert dunes.

And yet, from Mars, our planet is but a pinprick,
pale blue , they say.
I would be homesick.
Simply loving Earth too much.

© miriam ivarson

Forest Walk

Forest Walk

Walking the wood today
I felt pain from the beauty filling me,
I wondered why do I write when I can never express,
totally share its wonder in big and small.

I asked the Birch, I asked the Pine
put my hands on their strong trunks.
They gave me solace and calm. they gave me love.
But not in words, so how can I ever tell.

I kneeled on the forest floor, stroked the soft green moss,
also talked to the dryer green /grey ones;
I could feel their whispers and gentleness
enticing me to rest a while.

Words come when they are grown
let awareness and love fill your inner self.

Walking further on the forest floor
birds were talking in their beautiful, singing way
wisely and happy treasuring life,
also feeling grief when trauma strikes.

I also met an Elk, so majestic and still,
seemed to exude consciousness and peace;
He spoke through his stillness and eyes.

I hope one day to speak as clearly as them,
lift spirits as they did mine.

© miriam ivarson

T I M E / L I F E

T I M E / L I F E

I remember when I became Ten,
two digits instead of one.
The cake glittered with candles
I filled my lungs and blew them all out.

Making a wish to become hundred
and wear a big white hand crocheted shawl.

Perhaps I would need help to blow the candles out.

Then there was sixteen and twenty-one
not to forget the growing in between and forth.
As time flowed by, I felt sometimes it stood still
at others it skipped like a brook.

Plans fell through for some events,
replaced by a new surprise.
Life just is, Is.
Flying high or sinking low.

A journey of miraculous dimensions.

on Earth, through Cosmos it dances.
Magic beyond belief.

© miriam ivarson

Masked Smile

Masked Smile

Baffled I stood there,
outside the big surgery
that dispensed Vaccine to the chosen;
A smoothly running conveyor belt.

Each one stood on colourful circles
two meters apart.
One circle line running in
One running out.

Behind a desk a friendly lady sat,
she asked my name and how I was,
I realized our voices can smile too.

Whilst behind our masks we smile
Hoping our eyes will convey,
care and togetherness.
Shared fear and hope.

© miriam ivarson

Silence Spoke

Silence Spoke

Lightly the white fluffy flakes were falling
Outside my patio doors,
I opened and stepped out
Stood there for a wh
ile.

The soft snowflakes melted on my face;
Cold but exhilarating.
Silence, mystic silence prevailed,
yet it spoke.

Spoke in quiet tones, of peace.

Nature has so many sounds,
I love them all;
The patter of light rain, the storms,
the breeze through the trees;

Whispers and roars show life on Earth
its indomitable resonance and tenacity.

Now I feel and hear the silence
of pure white snow whirling from the sky,
I cherish the hush,

I cherish the wisdom of old.

© miriam ivarson