BEJEWELLED TREE
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
SONGBIRD
Many of us “bloggers” have talked about what prompted us
to write a specific piece. Be it a book, a poem, an article or
something visual that caught the eye.
I find it interesting to learn about you and how your conscious
and subconscious work together to trigger a story. There are as
many different ways as there are writers and no work would exist
without some inspiration. This is my belief.
My poem ‘Songbird’ below came to me in the morning two days
ago. The word SONGBIRD just came and I felt that compelling feeling
to pick up my notebook. I wrote what you see below without thinking
or stopping – this time even without editing.
That it was written in first person I cannot explain. The “ I “ could be a male or female.
The hidden message that seems to be there I can still only
guess at, hopefully it will come clear as it otherwise is strange.
So, this time the source of inspiration comes after the poem.
SONGBIRD
A songbird landed on my hand
looked at me and sang,
sang from her pure heart;
With delight I watched and listened
But didn’t join in
nor give her even a crumb,
Next day she came back
pecked at my hand, then sang,
the most wondrous song
I didn’t say a word
nor give her a crumb,
I was delighted and told my friends
but what about the bird
that sang her heart out
I just didn’t think of her
Didn’t give a crumb,
One morning she sat on my hand,
she didn’t sing,
Just looked in sadness
moving her head back and forth,
Then she flew; higher and higher
I never saw her again.
Finally I understood my selfish ways
I hope she found someone who knew
how to love.
I will forever miss this soulful bird.
© miriam ivarson
Sorrow and Strength
Sorrow and Strength
Grief is commensurate
to the depth and intensity
of love;
Part of your life is gone
future dreams an empty abyss.
Leaving you to face bottomless pain.
Is the deep trauma of so much love
worth the price of loss,
someone asked.
Yes. A resounding yes
rose from my cracking heart.
You will never live fully without.
In numbness, suffering, confusion
We do not yet know,
that through the pain, this purgatory;
New strength will germinate.
Will grow,
new course will unfold
new clarity of mind and soul.
Often I think of my mother,
thank her for teaching me love,
with kindness, laughter and song.
My father was my hero
until I let him be a man,
He often visits me from beyond.
I thank him for teaching me strength,
about the world we live in
about honouring each man.
My uncle who sang so serenely
of Swallows arriving in spring;
Lifting hearts to the heavens.
Like an angel he was and is.
So the unfathomable pains,
that seemed to crush the heart
Has turned to deep and rich wells,
that is with me each day.
My great love for those passed,
my grief;
Is now my smile and strength.
© miriam ivarson
SECRETS
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
BAREFOOT GIRL
“You are led
through your lifetime
by the inner learning creature,
The playful spiritual being
that is your real self.”
quote from Richard Bach
With this beautiful quotation as introduction I give you a poem which has two clear
layers. Isn’t it true that we are led through our lifetime, from the seeming safety of our home villages or environments to seek and carve out our own life and adventures. We might fail many times and and try again. Without searching I guess we would not know our own truth.
I would love to hear your responses.
BAREFOOT GIRL
Barefoot girl ran free
her feet in harmony;
In harmony with earth,
with reality.
She smiled with pure joy.
Barefoot girl grew up
she did good.
Went to the city,
studied law;
She became an attorney.
she smiled with success.
Barefoot girl ran in high-heeled shoes
she felt the glow of admiration,
she had a Penthouse apartment.
She had happiness,
so she thought.
Barefoot girl went home to say hi,
she cried,
Her feet no longer knew the earth.
© miriam ivarson
photos courtesy of Pixaby
Fountain of Youth
Reading many wise thinkers’ thoughts about life, what
gives lasting fulfillment and inner aliveness, brought me to
the question of retaining this fountain of youth. Of being
fully alive.
To dare live here and now as Eckhardt Tolle teaches in his
wonderful books makes us younger both physically and spiritually.
To feel each moment and not see it as a transport to the next.
By living so in our daily life, our faces relax and find the ease of
a smile. Strength to live life to the full and let our inner selves pour forth. To find clarity.
Fountain of Youth
Does it really exist,
or is it a state of mind?
The thought came unbidden
as I walked,
along the ocean shore.
The waves from the Atlantic
relentless, forceful,
singing their eternal song;
Powerful, soporific
profound,
dynamic organ to gentle,
sweet percussions;
as my ears, my being tuned in
revealing a mighty orchestration.
Eyes filled with tears of joy
as the morning sun revealed,
nature in all its beauty,
Splendour and hues.
Feet delighted in the surf
as tides reached, caressed,
and at times unbalanced me
with their strength.
I found my smile again,
full and free
as gradually the Atlantic hymn
filled my soul, my ears,
My whole,
leaving woes and fears behind;
who earlier seemed invincible,
so strong;
Where now drowned
By unending sea.
You look so young
I heard every day;
your smile is so bright.
Could it be so simple, I thought?
Have I found along the shore,
The Fountain of Youth?
Letting frowns and worries
be erased by the ocean sound.
Bringing forth who I was,
who I am;
As I walk along
the smile fills my heart,
opens it wide.
The crashing waves are me
as are the shifting sands,
We are one and the same.
A feeling so boundless and free
© miriam ivarson
BUBBLES RISING
BUBBLES RISING
Laughter and stillness,
a powerful blend
creating song in harmony,
expanding our deeper Self
Pure cymbals in hallowed room.
May we guard these gifts
keep them bright and true,
Free from discord and pretense;
Laughter ascends from the soul
stillness the pure mountain pool,
Where bubbles can rise
Transparent and true.
© miriam ivarson
DEVOTION
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
A FLOWER TO BEHOLD
To dream the impossible dream, is that what we do? All of us who believe in harmony among people on our Planet?
Who dream of of peace for Earth itself?
I am a dreamer and in spite of some shrugging shoulders I intend to remain so.
I have an inkling that the majority of people share this very dream. It might seem futile to an observer of world events but we have to look closer at all who surround us in our daily life.
At all who join together in joys and sorrows. Who give a supporting arm when needed, a caring word for a fellow being, a smile for those we meet.
We feel the bond that links us in spite of different world opinions. We inhabit this Earth, we need each other.
There is much cruelty in our world and sickness of mind. The more I observe people around me I am however convinced that the majority believe in the good in man and dare display it in their daily life
So let us make our voices heard, express ourselves, each in their own way.
Spread sunshine and hope where we go.
A FLOWER TO BEHOLD
May all the world’s leaders
around the table,
Be given a flower to behold.
To study in silence, fifteen minutes or more,
its delicacy, serenity and peace;
Quieting anger and unrest.
Don’t let ego, hunger for power and greed,
stand in the way of creating a world,
Fit for all.
Listen to people of the world,
open your hearts, your souls;
Can you hear their hunger and dreams,
Hunger for beauty, peace, meaning and truth.
Allow us all to shine like the flowers,
in tune with creation;
End the wars, killings, cruelty.
Free every child, woman and man.
Embrace humility, quietness, love
so you can hear, can understand;
Abnormality of wars,
don’t trample on life
don’t crush it to death.
The alternative is grim;
Obliteration of this Earth,
Death to a wondrous gift.
To dust you will turn us all.
An appalling and shameful deed
© miriam ivarson
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