Drunk on Joy

Drunk on Joy

Has it struck you at times, out in free open spaces
how very loud the little songbirds sing
how clear and distinct, from high trees near and far;
Yet their dome is the sky and walls don’t exist
.

How can their little bodies contain so much
strength, beauty and joy.
Yet, in between they work hard finding food;
Building nests and teaching their young.

I wonder if we think to much whilst they simply live,
rejoice in song and flight when work is done.
Or in between.

Imagine humans bursting out in song, just like that
without wondering if it is good enough, or worse
If you are drunk.

It occurs to me that it would be wonderful to be
drunk on joy and gratitude for being, here and now.

Sing and dance with happiness,
not being so correct.

© miriam ivarson

BRUSHSTROKES

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BRUSHSTROKES

with brush strokes light as feathers
I want to tell you about beauty
in a newly woken sky;
In a bird feeding his young.

In a woman’s graceful stretching,
her fingertips reaching high, just because.
Of glowing heather gracing my wall;

Caught by an artist with loving heart.

About the soft morning mist on the ground,
the neighbourhood slowly waking up.
Dogs taking humans for a walk – 
or is it the other way around?

About the stillness and grandeur of trees
that grace the territory;
Teaching us not to rush,
to respect nature and all therein.

With softest colours showing us gratitude,
gratefulness to Be, alive.
To love, most important of all.

Remembering those
who seen only dark shades so far.

© miriam ivarson

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