Science and space
Driven by passion and hunger
fuelled by mystical questions about life.
How come, who are we, why does it work?
Mysticism is simply the unasked answer within,
an age old wisdom knowing right from wrong.
Knowing what heals a wound
be it of the body or soul.
Does it not then make perfect sense
that the two work together honourably.
Listen, test, measure
Letting the answer be in tune and respect.
Our bodies, universe, are all vibrational frequencies
Fine tuned at best,
would it then follow that tuning is vital,
Creator, healer of wounds.
Used in harmony with science for the solid,
creating knowledge that can heal or harm.
There is no sound without silence
There is no science without mysticism.
C / miriam ivarson
What a joy looking through the window,
this morning was special;
Frost had given way to gentle sun.
Above all, a whole hamlet of Snowdrops sang,
I promise you, they really did.
Dressed in shining white against darker hues,
they called us to celebrate too.
To celebrate the return of life,
from hidden slumber in the ground.
I looked up at the Lilac tree above
It wouldn’t be outdone, their buds were swollen
also singing of spring.
Blackbirds and Robins were feeding on the lawn,
My special Robin came to the windowsill.
We twittered together of many things
and he taught me to sing.
I opened the window and fed him sunflower seeds,
He twittered happily so I think he was pleased.
Now, I am twittering to you,
glad of the lesson I learnt;
There is always beauty in each day.
I better go, my coffee is getting cold.
© miriam ivarson
are the Spheres’ whispers and music
the moon and the stars.
Among all noise and commotion,
the heavens just serenely are;
Spreading life giving light and warmth.
the word floated past this morn
tickled my spirit and tongue,
a delicious word
What does it mean to you or me?
I don’t doubt the timelessness
of oceans and seas,
Believe they will always hum and roar;
Their soothing, eternal and rhythmic song.
Whilst storing heat for our Earth.
The sky above, so exhilaratingly vast,
star studded at night.
I am sure it will always be
Timeless, beautiful, filled with mystery.
As to our beautiful, shimmering Earth,
how will it stand the test of time?
Our husbandry is awry and must improve
May we find harmony with the planet we love.
What about us humans, will our love, thoughts,
Creativity of all kind,
be a timeless force
forever drifting in the ether and inspire.
© miriam ivarson
Is it only through utter, total peace
or its opposite,
sorrow and pain,
That we can experience;
The depth and crest of creation
Not to forget joy beyond words,
Stillness without bounds
where thoughts can’t reach.
Hear the whispers of leaves and grass,
just rejoice in the beauty of a butterfly,
a bird, a meadow field;
Nature seemingly holding its breath,
I want to hold you all, to share this moment,
Of otherworldly tranquility,
Help you see, it is so easy and yet so hard
To leave worries, plans and charts behind,
To taste an hour of total peace.
C/ miriam ivarson
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
So many faces you have!
How I love everyone,
Did you bid the sun and clouds
to be just so today?
To show your ethereal, inner Self,
whilst the sky took advantage,
used the mirror you bestowed;
Like Narcissus admiring what it saw,
Your face on a stormy day;
fearsome, mighty drama on display,
No theatre could this attain,
The sky follows suit
clouds so magnificent, in dark hues,
At times the sun glints through
to remind who is the Star
of this eternal Show.
@ miriam ivarson