inspirational

METAMORPHOSIS

/ delphini510 / 39 Comments

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In our writing we draw inspiration and ideas from nature, people we meet and events in our lives. 

Autumn is now entering and as it advances our surroundings are painted in new and glorious hues. Somewhat rudely Autumn also disrobes so many of our trees that for months have been laden with green in so many stunning shades. A total transformation takes place on a daily basis. A show by mother nature to us.

On that note I want to share a poem with you.                                        

Soft cream and coffee

Dancing Leaves

Like happy feathers they danced
The autumn leaves.
gold, brown and red.
Such a happy dance, it seemed;

As if death was not sad at all.

Can’t say I am advanced enough,
to meet death with the beauty, 
Of the leaves.

      Lacking their peaceful surety
      Of after; 
      Of destiny.

            
This morning the trees have given,
a lesson so serene.
Maybe one day I will see death
With the ease and the light of the leaf.

© miriam ivarson

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Angels on my Path

/ delphini510 / 58 Comments

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During five weeks this summer I have had the blessing of a glorious summer break in Sweden. Staying at my Oasis in the forest and on the island of my birth. 

The beautiful nature surrounding me as well as  friends and family have all made each day magic. In the two previous posts I have given you little tasters.

Physically and mentally it has been a healing and enriching time.

Even a potentially dangerous tumble down a steep staircase became a blessing in disguise as I met more angels on the path. Both doctor and nurse gave me hugs filled with care and empathy. 

Apart from listening to the trees, grasses, blooms and rocks whispering their secrets I also met angles. Angels in the shape of people; they made my heart sing.

The strength of us all when we open the sluices to our heart is what will make this shimmering planet whole.

Let the drums from many high places roll. The strength we all possess when we open the flow of love and care is a force greater than shout.

Below is a poem I wrote a while ago when another event really opened my eyes.

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ANGELS

I met an Angel
didn’t know at first;
It had no wings as pictures showed,
Just looked like you and me.

I was in distress and there It was
Only eyes and words set It apart,
She looked calmly into my heart,
The voice was kind and sang of love.

Suddenly stormy waves stilled
My eyes and heart filled with peace,
The boat was on right keel again
On a stormy sea, now becalmed.

How many Angels don’t we meet
In shops, streets, in a Cafe,
You wouldn’t notice at first.
Their eyes are warm and look deep,
you will know you are cared for,                      
You are known.

Their love will lift
With light step we will walk,
They have shown the stars, the moon.
Music from the Spheres fill our hearts
With peace and joy we continue our day,

Having learnt it is kindness
Not wings,
Love and care that is the mark,
The Mark of an Angel on your path.

© miriam ivarson

OPPOSITES OR ONE

/ delphini510 / 35 Comments

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Darkness and light,
enhancing each other.
Without, our hearts would not
soar so high nor shine;

not having felt fear and grief,
trouble and joy.

Walking the forest I am struck,
gasping at the otherworldly play
Between light and shade.
Mosses in shimmering hues;
lime grey and bright golden greens;

whilst tree trunks throw intricate patterns
of a music score, on forest floor.
The huge roots from fallen pines,
so beautiful in death;

Providing home and food
for creatures that thrive.

 

This leads me to the shades within ourselves, the dark and light of fear, an inherent feeling in all beings.
Albert Camus said: ” There is no love of life without despair of life”.

To find balance and healing we need to leave space in our soul for all the shades. Room for our fears, our joys, our peace, our misery. Room for beauty.

Just accept what is now and let that be so. From such acceptance there might grow a creativity we had no time to see.

As I write this on fluttering pages whilst sitting in the shades of Birch trees I am at one within and without. Beauty surrounds me and serenity. I feel inner peace.
When we find this it might be wise to rest in the harbour for a while and restore wisdom and knowledge of ourselves and life.

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INTENSELY ALIVE

/ delphini510 / 41 Comments

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INTENSELY ALIVE

What was it like when life just began?
on this planet we love,

When all was still,
yet, so intensely alive;
working in harmony,
A stillness hard to conceive.

Birds, animals and man
together in peace;
No need for dominance or strife.

As I head for my retreat in Sweden tomorrow morning I  realise that in today’s world it is close to the Eden we often seek.

I feel blessed to have come across this hidden gem and am sure I was somehow guided. It is in an area I hadn’t thought of, a chance word in a conversation caught my attention  and all was go from then on.

To give you all a taste of a still morning at my retreat I want to share with you the poem below which I wrote whilst having breakfast under some birches, facing the morning sun.

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MORNING MUSINGS

Whisper of pages turning
by the breeze,
untouched writing pad;
Pen lying idle beside,

just being is so majestic,
No word good enough.
The morning sun 
gently warms my face.

Delicious beyond description,
Blueberries and raspberries
bursting in my mouth.
Harvested this morning 
among forest trees.

Wagtail, Fieldfare delight 
on new cut lawns,
Picking, flitting,
Drinking dew.

Organ music 
through spruce woods,
Delicate whisper
through birches;
Sun teasing between
summer clouds.

Coffee tastes good.

I lean back, stretch arms to the sky,
Palms upturned;
Saying with a smile;
Thanks.
For an another day of Life.

© miriam ivarson

Winged friends

OSCILLATING SOUNDS

/ delphini510 / 23 Comments

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Sounds; from the minute we are born they surround us. Comfort, lull and frighten. They will forever stay in our subconscious memory. Any trigger will set off reactions out of our control. Soothing, happy or frightening.

A loving voice, a comforting rhythm, hum from harmonious conversations can comfort and still a fractious spirit.

And so it is with lullabies. I remember my mother’s beautiful songs and lullabies as well as my father playing his mouth organ. As adult I would at times be blessed with them calling and play a duo over the phone. Tears would run with happiness. My poem below touches two sounds that still today work as lullabies for me. I would be delighted to hear from you about sounds that have made impact in your life.

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THE COT and THE TRAIN

What possible connection do they have?
except the effect of their sounds,
their rhythmic 
soothing pulse.

Embedded deep in my soul, my brain,
more powerful than lullabies.
Eye lids gently close 
as I drift with the chants,

of water against the hull
of clunks from the rails.

Tucked in a Cot in my father’s boat,
safely riding the waves
as he steers with steady hand;
The song lulled me to sleep.

On my first train journey at 15,
excited by all that was new;
the steady, rhythmic percussion,
carried me into Morpheus arms.

Gentle but powerful songs
grow firm roots in your heart.

© miriam ivarson

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Lavender Bear

/ delphini510 / 34 Comments

 

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How many of us I wonder, have planned a post we really think will be good, only to be thwarted at the last moment? In “To a Mouse” Robert Burns says “ The best laid  schemes o’mice an’ men Gang aft a-gley,”

Well, I have a short record in this blogging world but so far three out of five planned posts have been pushed aside by another eager idea.  Amazingly powerful voices that play havoc with our schemes/plans.

This time it was for me a poem I had almost forgotten; it might start out sounding childish but it also has a deep question for so many of us in our Western society.

As to childish, don’t they all live inside us; the little child, the teenager, the adult and on we go. I find they are all  very alive and content together and I cherish them all.  One without the others would be a life in a box.

So it is that I today give you “Lavender Bear”.

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Lavender Bear

In the small hours,
when sleep eludes,
we sit together, Lavender Bear and I.
A candle lit, softening the dark
him doing exercises whilst I sip,
a warm drink, wondering;
Where did Morpheus go.

Has body and mind lost
the simple contact, harmony,
Rhythm between nature and man?
Does the brain suffer superiority complex?
When will it ever learn its place.
Universe just is and so am I.

Lavender Bear sleepily agrees.

So we look for the off button,
Together listen to silence,
soft hum of sphere’s song.
Without duality
Being its eternal self.

Gently we settle again,
Lavender Bear and I,
To listen, to learn.
From Cosmos itself.

© miriam ivarson

 

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THE NARROWBOAT

/ delphini510 / 21 Comments

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My first holiday on an English Canal walked with simple ease straight into my heart and settled in. Gliding slowly through countryside and hills in an old Narrow boat was heaven that week, it still lives vividly in my mind.

For those who don’t know, I want to give a brief outline of how this wonderful Canal system came about, its original purpose before people like myself sought them out for peace and relaxation.

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The first Canal ( Bridgewater ) opened 1761; the golden era of the canals was 1770 – 1830. During this era most bulky transport took place on the canals, e.g. cotton, coal, steel. It was considered quick transport although even today the max speed is 4 miles per hour. Originally the boats were drawn by horses on the “Towpath” with long ropes attached to the boats.

The Canals were built by hardworking men with pickaxes and shovels. As you can imagine this was a very hard work; the photo below shows a typical scene of the time. Most workers were Irish.

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The network was originally called Navigations and the men working and digging these ‘navigations’ got called “navvies”. These very same “navvies” were also the ones digging and building the railway system that came to mean the death of the Canals as viable transport systems. Sadly the Canal owners lowered the wages to the “navvies” as the rail system grew, thus it came about that the navvies and their families started living in rather cramped conditions on the Narrow boats as money were short.

The rescue of the Canal system came from people who saw the potential of opening them to holiday makers. Today this is a big and very popular venue for holidays. The Lancaster Canal, which I had the honour to travel, was a have a haven to me and if you still have time; please find below my my poem from this trip.

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The Narrow Boat

Gently chugging through still water,
Pastoral countryside slips by
in green, yellow and gold,
cows, sheep and country pubs.
Magnificent mountains afar,
shimmering purple and blue.

A Heron following, so near
a beautiful winged friend,
Breathtaking as he lifts to the sky.
Powerful beauty at ease,
knowing itself.
With grace he returns.

The diesel engine’s comforting sound,
a counter point
The heart beat of the ‘Narrow boat’,
In harmony with nature’s own song.

Unveiling to me as we move on,
Clarity and light.
Chattering thoughts disperse
as onwards we both fly,

The Heron and I.

© miriam ivarson

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All photos except “the Navigation men” by miriam ivarson.

Enlightenment

/ delphini510 / 36 Comments

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I promised myself to post only once a week and have
( what I think ) a good idea – alas, that one has to wait.

You see,  I was sitting out with breakfast in the garden
today, a most ethereally quiet and beautiful morning. Even the
trees and bushes were hushed. Only the odd tender branch
felt any breeze and fluttered. The birds sang Sotto Voce,
so enchanted was all and I know I was blessed.

So I want to share with you a simple poem called
“Enlightenment” that came to me early yesterday morning.
As often happens, the Impish being – I now call it “Water nymph”-
as I am so often interrupted whilst showering. In and out of the
shower makes for quite moist scribbling. I am not complaining,
after all I also like water.
Besides, this “Water Nymph” lovingly embraces my heart and makes
the sun shine in corners I didn’t know of.

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Enlightenment
Do we discuss too much?
should we just do,
Be enlightened as we go;
Feel the wonder,
Rejoice.

Memories of such fullness
flicker past;
Scrubbing home woven carpets,
laid out on granite rocks, by the sea;
scrubbing with green soap,
humming with content,

carpets my mother wove,
every colour, expressing her;
Her light spirit, song and love.
In their creation, she felt gladness,
Enlightenment;
she didn’t know the word
Just sang.

The same on baking day,
she just sang,
it rang out far and wide;
The bread rose golden,
enchanted we were drawn,

‘Enlightened’, with a smile,
she handed the golden fare,
with contentment we rushed out,
happily played as we ate.

She was enlightened,
but didn’t know the word.

© miriam ivarson

First lot out

LIFE ON HOLD

/ delphini510 / 23 Comments

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Too often I hear the expression “my life is on hold”and it startles me. I can see this wall building up, a veritable tsunami wave. Life itself protesting as it can never be put on hold. Will always move.

Imagine the avalanche as the man / woman gets the job or moves home! Should life then crash down and drown us all?

Forgive my meandering and dramatic imagery but this is how I feel. The phrase “ Life is on hold” is a disharmonious chord.

It reminded me that today is tomorrow’s yesterday. With these thoughts I give you also a little poem about the flow.

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Forever Now

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