FORGIVE – FORGET

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FORGIVE – FORGET

Can we forgive ourselves
wrong choices and mistakes,
smile at decisions that shone?
Both part of learning and growth.

Part of the fabric of life.

Can we forgive others for pain they caused,
foul actions and words?
Not brood or let them darken our days?
Can we hurl burdens overboard.

How easy the ship would sail, unladed.

I believe we can forgive,
I wonder, what about forget?
How would it feel to toss all darkness to the winds.

Would the sun shine brighter
would we skip with joy?

Our brain holds memories,
can there still be acceptance and peace?
I believe so,
we can put the millstones down
one by one.

Don’t be slaves, carrying weights long gone;
Let them be absorbed by Cosmos so vast,
where neither time nor thought exist.

Imagine to feel free,
feel the joy of dance
see the sunset, really behold.

Forgive yourself and others
walk with knowledge and no rancour,
smile at passers by.

In sunshine or soft rain.

© miriam ivarson

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SNOW DROP

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SNOW DROP

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
and smiled,
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

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Blessings

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Blessings

Woke to a soft morning, felt whole,
warm under duvet, hands hugging my shoulders,
I smiled at the sleepy hug;
Stretched, felt every limb start to sing
as I allowed time to just be – before day begun.

Opened the curtains and saw the sun
hugging my garden, the trees, the sky;
All seemed pure and renewed,
only distant rumbles from planes high above,
Bringing people here and there.

Content with my place just now
until fate decides otherwise as mystery unfolds.
Arrived from one haven and landed in another;

I realise I am blessed.

© miriam ivarson

Conversation

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Conversation

Conversation is a flow of thoughts
of listening, truly listening,
response with the ease of ripples,
With the joy of a stream.

Let it be the smiles between you
and the tears too,
thus your hearts can meet
Sing in harmonies bright and new.

Your mind will want to play, so let it;
Care that the balls flying between
are soft and gentle.

Always mindful of listening to each word,
keep it still before the next throw.

Let there be quiet within whilst you digest,
kernels of truth and wisdom, let them sift;
Let them grow
whilst you rest in a forest glade.

There are shouts and angry speeches,
on media, podiums and private groups;
Don’t mistake this for conversation
suppression is a more apt sentiment.

So, please, join me by the clear stream
in joyful and caring commune.

© miriam ivarson

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BEGINNING

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BEGINNING

I brought a bottle of Champagne
to celebrate;
Today is beginning of the beginning
or beginning of the end.

Whichever, we were all there,
Life is good,
let us share what we have.
Sing joyfully today, 
it is;

Beginning of the end
Beginning of the beginning.

Whether you feast on turkey,
fish, vegan, is immaterial,
Even pumpkin pie is a beside;
Today is precious, it holds you now;

Let our words be born from love,
bickering banished along with snide remarks.
Smiles and laughs reigning supreme;

An autumn leaf just danced to the ground,
A baby bird was born.

© miriam ivarson

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Discourse with Friends

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Discourse with Friends

I wish I could speak with animals
in their language or mine,
What a wonder to hear each one;

What would the lion have to say
or the bird in the tree?

I might be careful speaking to Crocodile,
when he says hello I might fall in;
He might choke.

Mr and Mrs Elephant are high on my list,
so huge, yet gentle and kind. 
They could tell how to rear the young;

Also tell about their fear of homo sapiens,
especially those carrying killing machines.
Their sadness and grief at bereavements,
losses of mothers, fathers and kids.

They ask why?

To comfort myself I walk into the sea,
play with the Dolphins and listen
to the bright and happy exchange.

Their spirits are high but there is a sadness too,
do you know what happened to our food?
So much is now harming our young – and us all.

Meeting Mr and Mrs Elk in the forest glade,
they said the same as the Elephants,
also added, do you know why?
What could I say?

Mankind is yet not enlightened enough,
can’t understand;

The Sanctity of Life.

© miriam ivarson

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T I M E L E S S

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TIMELESS

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.

Timeless,
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

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Compromise

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COMPROMISE

Will it shatter our dreams
or is it at times the only way?
To reach the ultimate,
should we walk a straight or a winding route?

Noticing how the old horse and cart weaved
a route with so many bends;
Still, he reached the dream and destination
of the traveller he carried abroad;

With some fun compromises thrown in.

As I drive our straight and black motorways
without compromise leading to my goal,
little sensory distraction on the way;
I wonder which route, was most humane?

A little compromise here and there
to smell the sweet clover or bypass a hill,
enjoy a picnic, listen to nature around.
Compromise or plan, it is our choice.

At the end, might it depend on the dream?
For some it is the journey, the lesson within,
for others, the dream to reach and expand.

No rights or wrongs as long as we are true,
True to our dreams and let compromise be part.

© miriam ivarson

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BREATHING

 

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Mr Owl above, wisely tells me that we teach best what we need to learn.
An old adage I tell him but admit I don’t always listen. Hmm …

The first and most spontaneous gift at birth is the breath.
Yet, we often manage to mess even this up. Makes me both laugh and cry,
are we both too clever and too ignorant?

Either way, this little poem presented itself and perhaps I am not the only one
to recognise this phenomenon of breathing.

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BREATHING

to the rhythm of the waves,
To the sounds of strong winds
through the forests and glades;
The sighing of reeds by the lake.

Letting breath flow deeply and easily
in harmony with them,
Replenishing body and mind.

Our lives begin on Earth with the first breath,
it ends with the last;
Thus follows that we should nourish and fill
this precious vessel, this gift,

With oxygen freely supplied from each tree,
from all living nature.

So walk straight, fill the lungs
make every cell sing,
with the fervour of a little bird;

At night let easy cadency sustain.

Our heartbeats will slow, to the pulse
of a two stroke diesel;
As it propels the skiff at sea.

All it takes is to be,
in tune with the Whole.

c/ miriam ivarson

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Dignity in Storm

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Dignity in Storm

The Poplar, so statuesque 
reaching for the sky,
in its richness and elegance;
Fearlessly risking a great fall.

The spruce, so mighty,
more yielding in its strength;
Dancing its wild dance, 
in rhythm with the wind.

Beautiful are the Birches
gracefully bending down,
Letting storm and gusts pass;
With ease rising up again.

Sacred are they all
in their acceptance and grace;
I see them as part of us
and we of them.

Opening our minds and hearts
we give the trees;
Recognition of their own selves,
their sacredness and dignity.

As they give the same to us.

© miriam ivarson

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