Glowing from within
Rose’s ethereal beauty
Light in the darkness
c/ miriam
tranquility
LITTLE HOUSE
LITTLE HOUSE
I dream of you, long for you
Need you;
Little house near the sea.
With passion I long to enter,
to open that door.
There might be cobwebs and spiders,
still, straight through the hall and room;
Floor to ceiling windows flood the house
with light from sun and sea.
I drop my bag, abandoned it lays,
quickly walk up to the light. My heart melts,
A smile grows and tears run.
I found you, found you
my whisper says,
we belong. I feel at peace and complete.
Having wandered long, seen much,
learnt, laughed and cried;
Now I need harmony and peace.
Dear Little House, I will make you glow
like you made me,
so out comes buckets and tools
I start working whilst singing along.
As all is finished and glows
air streams in through the door,
the door to the deck facing the sea.
Do I need to say more?
Pulling up a little table and chair
to the windows, that now
shine and gleam,
sipping coffee just brewed;
The van won’t be here in quite a while.
So, I greet my beloved sea gulls and terns.
Then to my surprise a Goldfinch lands
on the windowsill.
He is beautiful and I wish he would stay;
Although he loves bushes and trees.
Settling in this house I dreamt,
among birds and creatures of the sea,
I will not forget, my dear winged friends
in the dreamy garden where I lived.
How could I, they enriched my life.
Should you ever pass my way
please remember to come in,
there will always be a welcome for a friend.
© miriam ivarson
Blessings
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
PER UNIVERSUM
Dear fellow scribblers, writers, authours and poets. Whichever title
we choose, we share the love of words and believe in their power.
We walk this beautiful Earth together – Star dusts as we are.
One, nowadays quite mundane experience we share, is the joy or stress
of economy short haul flights. I do fly many of these within Europe and especially to visit Sweden. Using the practice of non-thinking
mode helps. Just shuffle forward, stopping, shuffling…
Eventually sit down in your seat and visualize the relief of stepping off at the destination.
It was on one of these flights that I unexpectedly experienced what
became the poem “ Per Universum”. Such a quiet and smooth boarding.
What a blessing that flight was.
PER UNIVERSUM
I flow through universe,
It flows through me.
Can’t say where one starts,
Or did we always belong?
I am It and universe me.
extraordinary feeling, at 36000 feet,
safe and warm.
Three monks in row behind,
meditate.
Journey flows, in peace.
Universe is me, I am It.
Oh to keep this surety;
36000 below.
where I meet problems, tempers,
unformed thoughts.
Yet mindful of angels on the path,
who also flow through universe,
In tranquil unity.
They are everywhere
I see clearly;
We make up universe,
Angels with spirit
Clear and kind.
Through universe we flow
and It through us.
Ever increasing harmony.
© miriam ivarson
CHURCH BELLS CALLING
We are approaching the end of this year and readying ourselves to greet 2018, perhaps wondering about the joys and trials it might bring.
One sound that always plays a big role on New Year’s Eve is the Church bells. The idea of sharing my thoughts came whilst listening to the local Church atop the hill ring out every Thursday evening. Spreading quieting sounds mixed with gladness.
Every week the bellringers practice diligently. I always feel a certain awe and peace as the bells ring out across the villages and hamlets. A stillness falls among all the busyness. I hope many of you have the pleasure of hearing the same wherever you live.
Back to New Year bell ringing. I was going to send you a poem read each year in all cities and villages in Sweden. The squares are packed with people whilst at midnight the poem “Nyårsklockan” is read. I had until today thought this was a Swedish poem but looking for a suitable video I found that it is originally written by Lord Tennyson.
A Swedish poet translated the poem and a few years after Tennyson’s death it became the big Swedish tradition. So the countries share the love for one great poem.
Hence you will understand that I am giving you this beautiful poem by Tennyson and make no attempt to write one myself.
Ring out, wild bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1809 – 1892
The poem was first published 1850.
MACKEREL SKY
MACKEREL SKY
One morning I saw
a sky so sheer, a mackerel sky,
though its colours were
pink, pearl grey and blue;
In awe I also watched
the sun light a bush in bright red,
followed by one in gold;
Breakfast was put on hold,
it struck me that I saw love on display,
Love of life itself;
Let the dawning day be our guide
open our eyes and mind.
All this I remember
on a sad and grey day,
when the sky seemed
to have drunk,
All colour from Earth,
And lost it somewhere.
Memories of bright days
sustain my heart;
In defiance I light candles, everywhere.
I even light a Star,
It shines in my window now.
© miriam ivarson
UPON A MOUNTAIN
I have had the great pleasure visiting United States a number of
times and although each journey has brought experiences of wonder and
excitement, there is one part of a journey that really gave me both
a physical and spiritual high.
Although I had spent a couple of days in Nashville and had the most
fantastic time, being so happy there that I just wanted to stay – it was Smokey Mountains that stole my heart.
I was unprepared for its beauty and grandeur and also how much of its
history I would feel and learn by watching, reading and listening.
This was for more than 1000 years the home of mainly the Native
American tribe, the Cherokees. Now it is America’s most visited
National Park and it is still free to travel in there. I was lucky as there were no crowds there during the visit. That brought home the stillness so much vividly.
This visit did naturally bring forth some poems and the one below started as a hum during the days up on these mountains. So really it could be a lyric or a poem as I was humming along whilst writing.
This was a first anything like it happened to me.
Upon a Mountain
As I stood upon a mountain high
with a feeling I never known before,
Elation, awe and wonder filled my soul
as tears spilled from brim-filled heart.
Before me lay deep valleys, lofty mountains soared,
a chain of beauty and grandeur quietening mind.
Trying to comprehend that of this I was a part,
Felt so small and yet I flew;
Knowing a love pure and true.
On the bluff stood the most lonely Pine
or so I thought,
but it was strong and filled with joy
As each day life filled every atom and cell,
knowing itself in calmness and bliss
belonging to these mountains where it grew,
Loving them unquestioningly, unreserved.
Quietly I sat down by the Pine
leaning gently against its old trunk,
drinking in the beauty of majestic strength,
Until total love filled my every pore;
Feeling this was more than I could ask
or seldom known before.
© miriam ivarson
DREAM OF LOVE
The other morning I read the quote below by Khalil Gibran.
“ For thoughts is a bird of space,
that in cage of words may indeed unfold its wings
but cannot fly.”
This brought me up abruptly, I had dreamt that my words might
help someone fly. Just as I know how often I read and feel my
spirit lighten and with a deep breath – fly. Above daily worries or
concerns.
So I debated gently with Khalil Gibran and put forth that whilst
reading the words became thoughts again and could fly.
Well, the verdict is out but I do so hope I am right. You who take
time to read this today are invited to be the judges.
Meanwhile I give you a little poem below.
DREAM OF LOVE
With beautiful words you drew me in,
my heart thawed, buds opened,
to promises of rain drops, gentle and kind;
Of love and shelter from storms,
Wows to always be there, to love.
Light candles in the dark of the night,
sing lullabies;
Hold me when fears shook
petals that now dared bloom.
Alluring they are, these dreams;
Do they stand the test of time?
Beautiful words in the wind;
no foundation was built.
I now know, I would rather hold a hand
as I climb a stile,
a hand warm and firm,
a smile as we follow the path,
through woodlands, past lakes,
stopping in awe of hills afar.
So, don’t promise me the moon and the stars,
Just let me rest in your heart;
with your hand firmly holding mine,
your eyes and smile be the stars.
© miriam ivarson
CHISELLED
Lit from within
Walking the garden this beautiful morning I felt the urge to share with you what I saw.
It seemed lit from within
Lit by love
and by the sun above,
As it shared its nectar
with bees and butterfly,
Its brightness and fragility
shining with joy and love,
Stream of healing flow.
Bursting with life,
bright as the sun;
telling us to fill
our shadows with light.
Next I chatted with Mr Blackbird,
so proudly showing off
a beak filled with worms;
Dinner for the family.
I told him he was handsome
and clever too;
He nodded his head vigorously,
losing one worm.
Please join me now for a drink,
sitting among them all,
Not even meditating;
Just breathe.
My Window 