Fear FEAR Fear

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Fear  Fear  Fear

Suddenly the dark balloon bursts, 
with force scattering to the ground
ashes and fragments in multitude,
insignificant now, once content is revealed;

Total silence descends, stillness arrives.
Yet I am bewildered by this drama.
Silence, total silence descends,
Lucidity in quietness, like a flower, grows.

Whilst the wind blows ashes and fragments away.

The sky is so very blue, painfully so,
I couldn’t see that before.
What happened
what was actually in the this fearsome balloon?

It blocked out all light.

Behind the ‘zeppelin’, so filled with fear and doubt
an exciting new adventure was waiting;
Was calling my name.
Whilst frightened I hid below,
unable to accept what it held.

Now I can see the blue sky again, feel the sun
whilst walking, at times run,
Towards the adventure ahead.

Let my bare feet touch the ground
hair blowing free in the wind,
Skin kissed by the sun and breeze.

© miriam ivarson

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SOUL PORTRAIT

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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

S U C C E S S

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 SUCCESS

is not in numbers, nor applause;
Success is daring to be you,
your unique Self.

Daring to let fake facades, worries 
and dark times fly;
Sharing who you really are,
just you, not a copy or pretence.

We learn from all around us,
from nature in its pure truth
from people who are poor 
and those who are rich.

Yet I repeat, success is being true.
Not gleaming facades.
It is the radiant kernel within.

Success is to find joy in the delicacy
of a child’s smile,
in the heart-stopping  beauty of sunrise;
In a morning flower, fresh with dew.

© miriam ivarson
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Seeking Yourself

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Seeking  Yourself

Hurled into the universe
helpless, small,
How do we know where to go
Is it coincidence or design?

I believe that the little spirit is drawn
to love in abundance, to care beyond call.
A seed inherent that grows, that blooms
as the helpless newborn says hello.

Yet, why did I choose an island in the North
or you a town in the South
and why these particular parents we love?

Do we have a purpose to fulfill, a gift to explore?
do you believe it is a random act.
Is the seeming randomness just fear,
fear of seeking, of fulfilling our destinies?

Like heat seeking missives we were hurled
to the parents perfect for us;
Are they kindred spirits we sought
or a cradle to further our growth?

I know this seems cruel to those who struggle,
yet history shows;
Strength and love,
Leadership and wisdom from many once deprived.

© miriam ivarson

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Light through Prisms

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LIGHT THROUGH PRISMS

Knowledge is great, we hunger to learn,
yet science cannot alone explain
the wonder we feel at nature’s play;

The beauty of light broken through prisms.

The light through fine raindrops high above
creating a rainbow at which we swoon and dream,
to which even songs are composed.
To the multitude of colours within,

Through bubbles, angles and light.

The glassblower’s art, so fascinating,
almost mystic as we watch.
I love observing, almost tear eyed;
Always walk out with one piece in my hand.

I have seen this wonder in snow crystals too
and yes, in a drinking glass.
In reverence we watch these bubbles in the sky,
in a studio, in a droplet on a grass;

Don’t let us forget bubbles of light 
rising from our hearts.

© miriam ivarson

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BELONGING

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BELONGING

Where do we belong, each and every one?
What makes our soul sing and our work dance,
what do we seek, in stillness,
alone?

So many questions and no answers,
a teacher I am not.

I love the ocean, both when it rages and smiles,
also I love the forests, meadows and rocks.
They all have their voice, clear and sincere.
As they roar and whisper their eternal truths.

Not a false note nor a lie to be heard,
no lures and baits, just joy and veracity.
The rocks join in with healing vibes.

Among these I belong, feel peace and calm,
where also birds and butterflies live.

Many cities are so beautiful, I grant you that;
In awe I visited many times.
Admired the artistry of buildings famed
of skill and design, of achievements seeming greater than man.

I love visiting these but find the noise and rush,
the tensions and fumes of the streets too much.
Although exciting pulse will attract.

All these thoughts matter, have validity,
but don’t we really belong
with those we love unconditionally
as they do us.

Know us and love us, 
Just for what we are, simply you or I.

© miriam ivarson

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DOUBTING


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DOUBTING

Are we ever good enough to create,
be it in writing or paint?
Doubts that seems like a plague
or might it just make us strive?

Strive to create our utmost, our best.

Does a seed ever doubt itself
as it falls to the ground?
Does it feel small and inferior?
I believe it just does sow.

Follow its purpose and beauty on Earth.

Yet mankind seems doomed to hesitate,
to doubt, belittle and judge;
In lieu of fulfilling gifts we have.
Even the masters suffered this scourge.

Yet their creations lifted others high
Often after they left this Earth,
still doubting themselves.
That is sad.

We might be amateurs or maybe great,
Few will know …
Until after they are dead.

I do hope we all then can smile
wherever we are
and be content with our work,
The light it could spread.

C/ miriam ivarson 

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HERE AND BEYOND

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HERE  AND  BEYOND

There is something beyond the mountains
Beyond the sun, beyond the stars,
beyond my burning, longing heart;

A yearning for Cosmos to fill the soul
with its song so pure and serene.

Sounds from oceans, lakes and forests
fill us with joy and peace,
how can there be more beyond?
I just know there is.

Looking at the complexity, the beauty of a rose
residing on the table as I write,
Does it also long for more or does it know;
The wonder of the Whole.

May I never be blind to the universe
held in a flower, a tree 
nor to the glory of a human heart.

I feel the greatness of the Whole 
is beyond the understanding of our minds.
Still, it is there, giving its gifts each day.

© miriam ivarson

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LITTLE HOUSE

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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

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