H U S H

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HUSH

Stillness, oh stillness you can touch
The morning sun a red-gold globe
Seemingly hanging in the trees,

A hush that wraps all in its arms.

Birds of all kinds are flying, swooping,
are they purely having fun?
Are they thrilled by the hush?

Ancient memories triggered within
about life on Earth.

The air is a heady elixir
tasting of plants and herbs,
In reverence I stop and feel awe.

Could it be so simple and so difficult,
A spring clean of the whole Earth?

Of oceans, forests, cities and air
What a joy and peace each day could be.
I am sure Earth would help with delight.

Smiles and kindness would again light
faces that for long been sad and drawn.

We need our scientists to help,
with imagination, intuition and skills;
To build what doesn’t harm but support.

© miriam ivarson

SOFTLY

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SOFTLY

they fall upon a hungry ground,
snowflakes filled with dew.
So slowly, so gently they wake
grasses and plants.  Feed them

blessings from the sky.
As together Earth and snow create
A season of awakening, of new life.

The feed from above settles lightly
on my newly created lawn,
I say, thank you for the blessing
Knowing the grass will smile with the sun.

So gently we are all bound together
a creation of love and life.

© miriam ivarson

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HERE AND BEYOND

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HERE  AND  BEYOND

There is something beyond the mountains
Beyond the sun, beyond the stars,
beyond my burning, longing heart;

A yearning for Cosmos to fill the soul
with its song so pure and serene.

Sounds from oceans, lakes and forests
fill us with joy and peace,
how can there be more beyond?
I just know there is.

Looking at the complexity, the beauty of a rose
residing on the table as I write,
Does it also long for more or does it know;
The wonder of the Whole.

May I never be blind to the universe
held in a flower, a tree 
nor to the glory of a human heart.

I feel the greatness of the Whole 
is beyond the understanding of our minds.
Still, it is there, giving its gifts each day.

© 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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Never forget Love

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Never forget Love

Watching a craftsman one day
I was taken with his calm and skill,
how every sanding, sawing and nail
just seemed to flow from his hands;

Making me wonder about intelligence.

Often those with high degrees and titles
are set above the artisans and their crafts;
Above the unity of heart and action
whilst humming a tune

or working in silence, serene.

Intelligence comes in many forms
But Love only in one,
without which, all created becomes dust;
Knowledge without real life.

Passion and harmony give life to all you do,
to the surgeon’s knife, to the baker’s hands,
To the painter’s brush, to the welder’s torch;
Never forget Love. 

Healing where intellect still debates,
Creating whilst scholars frown.

At best, live in harmony with both.

© miriam ivarson

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THE STAR

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THE  STAR

I threw kisses at the roses
as they shone so bravely
on a cold December morning;
Making my heart sing,

as I polished the windows in readiness
for the Advent Star to hang and shine.
Preparing the table for the Crib
to stand serene, age old story to tell.

Every treasure transmitting love 
warm memories,
from childhood and on.

The joy from the girl I was – and am,
from the children of mine,
as their exuberance and fantasy poured,
also awe. 

In all this richness surrounding me
I saw the sorrows too and a whisper;

Cry my heart, cry
don’t fear your tears;
Smile my heart, smile
You are but twins within each one.

The strength of love won out, no space for tears,
as we rejoice in our creations, recognize our traditions
held in care and trust;

Sharing loving hugs

© 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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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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Lattice work against the Sky

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Lattice work against the Sky     

Against deep blue sky,
little gold coloured leaves
hang on, shivering in the wind.
Beauty in all seasons
is the Birch.

In the morning sun 
I saw purple blue Clematis,
Turned to shining,
golden, feathery balls.
Their beauty struck my heart.

Many things turn to beauty in death,
hadn’t much noticed before.
Butterfly clams on a warm strand
in life so little, so fast,

turn to glowing butterflies
when they die.

So it is that the Birch,
from tender gold/green
Through the seasons delight.

Naked again in the autumn wind,
Reveal beauty so sheer.

Unadorned.

© miriam ivarson

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