SOUL PORTRAIT

stream

SOUL  PORTRAIT

I pray our songlines be
those of care and love.
Showing warmth and tenderness
for all creatures along our path.

That we look intently at a tree,
all the way up to the crown .
Stand peaceful and listen to its flow
The flow from the roots, branches, 
to the utmost top.

Listen to the stream further on,
its unselfconscious purity and play
as it skips, bounds and sings;
Sunglitter in its hair.

Gently walk there, as not to hurt,
all the tender growth and life underfoot.
Dip your feet in the stream,
share its elation, feel freedom swell.

You might wonder where does this stream go
as it dances its way? I tell you, it is painting its 
Soulportrait
on its way to the river and the sea.

As can you and I as we flow,
through life’s varied events
over big boulders and smooth terrain.
Through light and dark.

May our soul portraits be filled
with wisdom and smiles.
Guiding songlines on the way to the sea.

© miriam ivarson

T I M E …

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TIME…

So linear and confined
I am told,
and it does seem true;
Yet I think of all the skips,
all the turns,

the flowing river makes
as it twists and bends,

from its origin as a newborn brook;
down mountains
through valleys
weaving its way,

until finally it merges
with the mighty river below
strong in its purposeful flow;

Letting us be streams within
meandering as we go.

We calculate our progress 
in years and days,
following the calender prescribed;
Not the rhythm of the moon or sun,

Some panic, they fear the big 0,s.
I say, it is just another day and night,
if you wish, tell your friends
you took another stream,
so they have to wait with the balloons

another year or so;

Whilst we twist and turn, leap and sing
before joining ocean so vast and deep,
becoming part of the whole.

© miriam ivarson

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photos by Miriam Ivarson

CHANCE ENCOUNTERS

 

      CHANCE ENCOUNTERS                                          

      I met a gracious lady, she smiled,
      light lit her eyes;
      I dropped a curtsy to the wise woman
      showing my respect.
      Do we honour those wiser than us, often enough;

     The Lady spoke to me, we shared,
     experiences of life.
     of joys, pains and love.
     Her road was gilded but her heart had bled,
     my mother would love her, that is enough said.

     We walked among  roses, talked about heroes,
     of our children, with humour and delight, 
     about countries and people.
     About the sky, the oceans and nature’s force.

     We found unity.

     I walked up a mountain in a far away land,
     met a Shepherd resting with his flock.
     You have come, he said, seeking long
     please sit down, share my fare.

     Quietly I did as the old man said.

     We talked softly about life,
     its passions and grieves, it’s beauty and joy.
     What can you hear, the old man asked
     I was quiet for a while, then said;

     The mountain stream, the wind through the grass.

     The old man smiled and his eyes shone bright.
     You have come a long way, he said
     but you found the core of peace.

     Do never forget the mountain stream, the wind
     Let stillness and wonder live in your soul.

     © miriam ivarson

The creek (crick) outside our balcony