Can You Hear

Can You Hear

Can you hear them. Million voices
calling out in fear and pain,
Can you feel their agony;
Their loss of hope and faith.

Can you hear them calling
as sickness sweeps the world;
As bombs drop and missiles fly.

Can you hear their pain?

Can you see them,
the suffering and dispossessed?
Can you tell why it should be so?

Words turn to a trickle, a whisper
As another tragedy hits mankind, the Earth.

Is it then wrong to remember, we only have here and now,
so let us hear the flowers sing sweetly
part of nature’s orchestration.

May one day we hear the million voices sing;
Singing songs of freedom and joy.
Call me a dreamer if you wish, so be it.

© 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

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

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

SURPASSING

SURPASSING

There are feelings beyond expressions,
Emotions that can never in words be told
be it in poetry or prose;
Feelings above music and song.

All these mediums and more,
can light the flame;
Make your spirit soar beyond,

To where only rapture resides,
Thoughts suspended.

To where you can feel an ecstasy
Emotion beyond a name.
Where you want to stay and fly free;

Also cry the tears you hidden,
tears, also without name.
Cleansing in their own purity.

Moments of epiphany.

© miriam ivarson

Mystic Gauze

Mystic Gauze

They say it is freezing fog today
yet through my window I see mystic gauze,
coloured in softest pink;
Surely from the sun behind.

It seems that each time the light shines,
our hearts take flight.

I wonder if the birds freeze?

Indoors a Christmas Rose shines
lit by the sun,
warming hearts, spreading smiles.
A gift to us all.

Wrapping some presents I hum
Yet, realize the best this year
is unwrappable.

The gift of protecting our fellow man
and ourselves,
So we can all meet again.

More caring than ever before.

© miriam ivarson

Shimmering Globe

Shimmering Globe

Are we both vulnerable and strong
however contradictory this sounds?
Fragile in a world of dissonance
Yet strong in our love of planet Earth.

Its extraordinary patience and beauty
in spite of human’s foibles and selfish ways.
Are we destructive, yet also dreamers?

Did we lose our way; our purity
in hunt of falsely glittering symbols?
Did we forget the joy of a touch, a smile;
The comfort of a shared laugh.

Don’t think we are masters of this
shimmering globe;
Our home among the stars.
We are but a blessed part.

Let us live the dream of harmony,
Harmony between oceans, land and mankind.

© miriam ivarson

Broken Wings

Go back and take care of yourself. our body needs you, your
feelings need you. The wounded child in you needs you. Go home
and be there for these things. Practice mindful walking and mindful
breathing. Do everything in mindfulness so you can love. by Thich Nhat Hanh

Well, my dear friends out there who so inspire me from all corners
of the world. I very much love reading Thich Naht Hahn and other
thinkers.
Yet, on 5th September I didn’t heed these wise words. Not watching
my way I got entangled and took a dramatic flight up over the patio
which caused a number of broken bones.

Ambulance whisked me away to hospital where I had operation etc.
Two weeks later I was allowed home with help organised as in many ways
I was still helpless. Day by day I do improve and feel gratitude.

Broken bones
Surgeons skillful knife,
Accident or haste?
Caring hands.

Price to pay in pain
Scars and Cast
Lesson to be learnt

Love and care the balm
Given in abundance
from family and friends;
Best medicine of all.

Power of love heals.

© miriam ivarson

TREASURES

TREASURES

You wonder what the two pieces
of driftwood
means to me.
They had casually been thrown up on the shore.

Pieces of beauty that travelled far
they have so much to tell
Of oceans, people, fear and hope.

If I were a painter with the fame of Van Gogh
I might paint it so you could see.
It is not just discarded wood.

They were polished by life
Roughened by salt and sand

Battered whilst still in human domain.

I shall sand them, gently polish
with natural oil.
Then make an honoured corner with
Driftwood and shells.

© miriam ivarson

photos by miriam ivarson

UNANIMITY

Unanimity

Love makes you strong
yet helpless at times.
Love can move mountains
yet not heal a suffering friend.

We can comfort, soothe and help,
hold a hand, give courage, but
can we remove the core pain?

Is being there enough when storm roars?

I look at the birds and see their ease
their natural being, living free today;
I listen to shouting and angry voices
who think they know how to lead.

I say, you don’t know a thing.
We all need care, love and togetherness.
Not anger and weapons,
lifeless tools for creating a whole.

Fragmented you leave the world.

Let love and care be behind our actions
it is surprising how good that feels,
Remember, we are all the same
and yet unique.

Our souls will whisper our songs
They will all sing in tune.

© miriam ivarson