Month: February 2021

Pinprick of Blue

/ delphini510 / 44 Comments

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

/ delphini510 / 45 Comments

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

/ delphini510 / 50 Comments

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