WHY

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WHY

Why cries my inner self,
Why
so much cruelty and hate.
We were given a paradise,
Now look, look what man has done.

Grief and confusion fill my heart
as I see the world with so much
anger, hate and greed.

Many centuries man have been killing each other
In the name of God, Allah and Greed.
War and murder in the most horrendous ways;
Enslavement created profits

How could morals and goodness be so suppressed.

Don’t get me wrong, there is much goodness as well,
Ripples turning to rivers.
Love being the currency and care for all.

In all this rebirth of Earth and its children
there are already countries that count
their Gross profit in happiness,
Happiness of people in the land.

© miriam ivarson

Full circle of life

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Full circle of life

Moon beams on her silver hair
brought an unearthly shine,
I stared at her soft chignon;
Felt love, and longing to have the same.

I was young, my hair touched by the sun
I didn’t realise that was exquisite too.
My longing was for Grandma’s moon beams
as I basked in her twinkling smile.

We sat on the balcony overlooking the sea,
with cake, coffee and milk for me,
watching the magic sea
where the moon lit a white, silver street;

White like my Grandma’s hair, Both shimmering.

She listened with love and interest
to my worries and joys, about friends,
about what all meant.

She told me stories from a life well lived
about her Ivar, the love of her life.
So many fun anecdotes and tears in her eyes.

We went to stand in front of his big portrait
He was like no other man, she said.

Wonder if the day will come,
when my sun-kissed hair gets eclipsed
by the moon beams of silvery white.

© miriam ivarson

H O P E

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H O P E

Hope sustains me
hope is life enhancing
hope is positive

It has carried mankind
through pain untold.

Giving us strength to see,
there must be good beyond.
Beyond cruelty, hate, sickness
both of body and mind.

Love, its natural partner
This life giving force,
Sure to be stronger than hate.
Love is Life itself.

Without, all will wither an die;
Like plants in a rainless land.

Lifting my face to the sun
I feel tears in my Heart,
tears of grief for pain untold,
Tears of joy of hope for a world at peace.

You are a dreamer I am often told.
Maybe that is true,
If so, I hope for many dreamers
among you, you and you …

© miriam ivarson

 

 

Hi to Fears

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Hi to Fear

Fear is dark, fear diminishes
Our minds and souls entrapped.
Caught in the net of imagined disaster
We become disabled and stunned.

A confinement we don’t desire.

Say hi to your fears, acknowledge them,
Don’t let them kill who you are.
A child of universe, a star, creativity.
You are that and more.

Let us ask, what do we plant and create
on this Earth of blessings and strife?
May it be beauty, wisdom, love.

Let us make the gift of life count
not drown in non living – alive.

© miriam ivarson

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Sacredness

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SACREDNESS

There is sacredness in all living things.
In a blade of grass, in the complexity of a tree.
They just are.
In harmony within and without.

There is sacredness in the early morning song
from each bird, wherever it found a perch.
They glory in the freshness and serenity
in stillness and early morning dew.

There is sacredness in each of us if we give space,
if we don’t split ourselves in two or more.
It can’t be understood, just felt
when we give ourselves up to peace

to the act of listening and being.
part of tranquility, of rustling leaves
part of creation and creativity.

As we are gifted the complexity of mind,
let us use it with wisdom and calm
in harmony with the sacredness within.

What wonders we then could create, in unity
How light we would feel,
when the burden of conflict is thrown overboard.

Finally we realize, the planet and all its life
belong to each and every one.

© miriam ivarson

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Kinship with All

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Kinship with All

The Sun kissed my face this morning
as I stepped out on the lawn
lifting my head to the sky,

I raised the arms high in greeting and thanks.

Majestic Oak trees beyond the garden
brought stillness and serenity,
Singing their age old hymns,
Giving without asking for praise.

Still dressed in nightie, I decided
to say hello to each little plant,
Greet every newcomer and those from before.

How at ease nature Is.
Wonder if we could ?

The birds make me laugh as they fly
displaying exuberance and joy,
I wish there was space to introduce them all.
Swallows, Goldfinch, Sparrow, Blackbird,
Doves, not forgetting wobbly Pigeon.

The blessings they so freely give.
Music to make the heart soar.

I stand there for a while, fill my soul,
make sure I won’t forget as the day flows on,
Hoping I will learn this song.

Of belonging and kinship with all.

© miriam ivarson

Objects de’Art

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Object D’Art

Together they mingle in harmony
the arts, bursting from souls
no longer suppressed or withheld.

Paintings of peace in flowing hues,
some in colours of grief.

Same with legends from Wordsmiths,
at times withheld too long;
Now telling their drams and truths.

The sculptor who this moment created a vase
so smooth, glazed in natures hues.

To tell about the many creative forms
would keep us here too long,

First, lest we forget. Always listen,
Listen to your heart.
Without love and passion

all art is just delightful objects d’art.

© miriam ivarson

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

Walking in the Wood

 

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Walking in the Wood

Walking in the wood this morning
as the sun painted the sky,
I looked, listened to
Life being reborn.

Buds were bursting and clapping hands,
little timpani filling the air.
The reeds around the pond would not be outdone,

they rustled delighted
Brushes on drums.

Birds, I love them, took centre stage
with a full choir singing praise;
to life, to heavens, to all.

Sheer joy.

I saw ants building nests,
very busy they were.
Even wasps droned drunkenly around
finding a flower or two.

I sat down on a stone and dare swear,
the air did also sing
as it gently nourished my skin.

© miriam ivarson