SECRETS

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I will not regale you long today as I feel the music
and hopefully the poem will speak for me.
I do so hope you will listen to the music, it has a         
tremendous start with musicians playing on a hill in a 
stunning location. 

 

SECRETS

Will we leave this planet
with secrets untold,
Nuggets of beauty and grief
stories of joy, maybe rue;
I fear this is so, do you agree?

Tears felled for a year or more,
playing favourite songs each night;
Because he or she was gone,

or listening to magnificent symphony
Beethoven’s Fifth it was,
resting in a warm and firm embrace
feeling death was same as life;

Float in the ether in peace never felt.

Dancing tango down the Kings Street
singing in unison, not to loud he said
the friendly policeman on beat.
Feeling exhilaration and life’s flow;

The secrets of darker hue,
those who left deep scars,
will they forever be hidden;
Like atomic waste secured.

Maybe they better remain untold?

© miriam ivarson

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DEVOTION

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DEVOTION

he said, the young man at my side
“Now I understand.”

Sitting in a mighty Cathedral for the first time,
this beautiful young man just looked;
his eyes followed the marble pillars, the ceilings;
work of incredible beauty and strength.
I kept quiet whilst he drank it in.
After a while, with unshed tears shimmering he said:
“Now I understand” 
It is Devotion “.
So simple, so big his words came.

I couldn’t believe in any religions, they all fight and kill.
Same with politics, he said. They haven’t understood us
at all.
It is Devotion, it is the best word I can think, 
said the 16 year old.

He made tears fill my eyes; I love him so.
I took his hand and and said; “ I see God in your face”
I also hear him in music you create.
We shared a moment that will forever last.

I look at your face and I see God,
also in music from the heart;
I see him in a great paintings too,
I hear God in the whispering grass.

So don’t paint God with long beard
He might be a she – or a storming cloud;
the Sun that warms and give light,
or the smiling moon keeping watch at night.

Create with passion and devotion
in shimmering marble, coloured glass;
in the music you hear in your heart;
We are all part of the Stars.

© miriam ivarson                     

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SYMPHONY

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What triggers your emotions so that you feel the need, the urge to create, share or write them down for yourself? To paint or sculpt? What makes any of us ache with the beauty before us or the darkness?

What makes us stop and put down in one form or other what we feel just has to be shared?

I believe it is a heart full of passion and love of life.

When I go for walks, travel, mingle with friends and family; meet new people unexpectedly, there is always some encounter that stays inside and won’t be still until I put it down on paper. 

So my dear friends, you are lucky that I keep my posts to one a week or you would be flooded with poetic impressions.

Mind you, there is always the press delete…..although I dearly hope to escape it. 

So, another such walk resulted in the poem below.

SYMPHONY

Linseed fields shimmering in blues,
next to weaving gold of wheat,
Grass and trees in deep green
Counterpoint beyond;

Like Vincent my heart misses a beat
I want to paint it all,
in thick and rich oils,

Catch the glow;

Beauty I cannot in words convey,
show you why your heart could burst;
with joy of just being alive.

Would I then like Vincent feel,
it is not good enough?
How do I tell,
Really show the wonder of life.

I comfort us both and say,
We can but try our best.

Creation can never be caught,
only sung about,
In various media and ways;

Each using the voice we got,
Creating together, a symphony.

© miriam ivarson

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