Nature

SOARINGLY

/ delphini510 / 26 Comments

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And then you will be ready to begin
the most difficult, the most powerful, 
the most fun of all. You will be ready
to fly up and know the meaning of
kindness and love.
quote from Richard Bach’s Jonathan Seagull.

 

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SOARINGLY

Two herons fly
love and life in harmony
wisdom and purity,
Wingtip to wingtip they soar,

Perfection;

Thus to fly, what would we see below,
on our planet of beauty and wealth?
marred by rivers of sadness,
of people dispossessed, broken;

What blessing would it be,
so to float, in unity above;
unrestricted.
Above strife and savagery.

The herons glide down,
gracefully land;
among the reeds by the lake.
Fishing, resting,
Meeting their tribe.

Are they simply like us?
a different embodiment,

With advanced spirituality.

© miriam ivarson

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Note in the Bottle

/ delphini510 / 50 Comments

letters

Four and a half months now I have had the great pleasure of reaching out to you, dreamers and writers from all continents. To feel the honour of hearing your laughter, sorrow, wisdom and just pure beauty. Thank you for making me so welcome, it means more than you know.

From start I felt uncertain and hesitant. Felt small. I soon learnt that a feeling like that is o.k. and many might have shared the same. What have I of interest to say, we ask.

I now feel the responsibility of giving something that might touch your souls and minds. One thing I promised myself was to write from the heart. The warmth and friendship I have met has buoyed me and given many smiles and tought me much. Thank You! to each and everyone.

Did you ever as young dream of sending a message in a bottle and throw into the sea? I did often and in the end sent two. I dreamt of answers from far away lands, wanted to connect. I am afraid none came and my disappointment was great. 

So, today I give you a poem that came to me when I remembered this dream and somehow via the blog I finally found these answers.

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 Note in the Bottle                                  

Is that all it is?
My scribbled attempts
to convey my thoughts.
If so, I hope the currents,
will bring it to your shores,

That you will read,
feel the bonds that tie man,
tie all living things
in a pulsating whole.
We are not alone,
only lonely at times.

Or is it just solitude?

We share same longings,
same dreams;
For vibrancy, love and truth.
Simply sit by a stream, in a glade,
Hear the fullness of nature’s sounds.

It is not the yachts,
the luxury goods;
not even champagne 
in a limousine,
That will make your soul sing.

How insignificant  we may seem,
and yet;
Without each and everyone
there wouldn’t be a Whole.

© miriam ivarson

sea : letter

Earth Is Crying

/ delphini510 / 43 Comments

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Earth Is Crying

The Earth is shaking itself,
with storms and quakes
showing its anger and unease,

As dictates and hate
fly between East and West,
murmurs heard from the rest.

Threats of annihilation,
anger that contorts;
ready to slaughter us all,

To satisfy Ego’s tremendous growth.

Do they care in their Citadels?
do they hear?
the screams from dying and dispossessed.

They talk about “Us”,
pretty words, I grant;
How can they sleep at night
with so many lies?

Do they cry or laugh
or feel fear too?

From my peaceful garden I cry,
for the chaos and waste;
the suffering,

How come anger and hate lead,
Why not love?

© miriam ivarson

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Eternal Flow

/ delphini510 / 43 Comments

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Eternal Flow

Like a mountain stream leaps and bounds
growing as it merrily skips,
picking up stones and twigs;
Emerging as a lively course;

Carving its way through rock and moraine
through farmland , past towns;
In time as a mighty river emerges,
for fish and man to enjoy,

Ending in quiet surrender to the Sea
so unfathomable and infinite.

So it is with a newborn child,
helpless but filled with life,
laugher and tears win our hearts;
Tender care guides the growth,

To skip away with friends
each day a lively dance;
picking up knowledge and tools;
understanding creativity.

Maturing in power and strength,
yet falling, stumbling and race,
whilst finding inner stability;
Purpose and wisdom to live.

With time reaching 
the mightiest Sea of all.

© miriam ivarson

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Who Are We

/ delphini510 / 25 Comments

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Gales, hurricanes storms are passing through our lands as Autumn vigorously – too vigorously at times – shakes all in its way.

Cleansing the trees from dead wood, sadly also the live. Picking up a car here and there and depositing them almost playfully upside down. Picking up Oaks, Poplars and Ashes; casually throwing them around. At times on our abodes. 

The sea in its frightening wild dance is doing the same, cleansing itself from debris as it dances with the Wind. Its power is stunning and in awe we stare, silenced. 

One picture from the news stay in my mind. Miami skyline against a huge ominous black cloud. The mighty buildings, the frontage of the city, looking so small and helpless under the ferocity of this force; hunkering down it seems.

So many of us feel fear and helplessness at this awesome display of nature’s strength. How small we can seem in spite of all that has been achieved. 

I wrote a poem a while ago, comparing nature’s way with ours. We are “Oh so clever”, but need to find harmony with our planet. This jewel in the universe.

Anthill

Who are we

The ant busily follows the track along
Building its stack high as a hill,
with dedication, purpose and innate skill.
The bird builds whilst singing his song
picking mosses, twigs, building soft and strong.
Butterfly shimmering, hovering quite still
listening to flowers by the rill.
All at peace with where they belong.

Man sets forth with bluster and brain
to conquer and build with might,
not knowing they cause pain.
Ignoring creatures and nature’s plight.
instead, work in harmony, unchained
Sail with the wind, create with delight.

© miriam ivarson

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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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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

sound waves

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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Hand in Hand

/ delphini510 / 10 Comments

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Hand in Hand

Through reading so many of your wonderful posts I have learnt
that the dream of travel and new experiences live strongly within
so many of us.
I feel comforted by this as at times I wondered if I really was a
nomad by birth. Seriously though, be it by air, by ship, by train,
the excitement is there like a fire within.

Travel experiences have changed though and today we have to exercise
a lot of meditative calm to go through our overcrowded airports.
I find them quite stressful and without going within myself in quiet
I believe the stress would be intolerable. However, the goals have so
far made up for the discomfort.

This leads to people watching which is a great source of learning and
at times entertainment. Images and conversations linger and might
later turn into writing.

The poem Hand in Hand comes from just walking the long way from the the plane to customs. A feeling that still lingers. The rest is from places I have been and that have given inspiration.

 

Hand in Hand

Come and walk at dusk
with me,
I whispered to you.
Let us watch the rising moon
stars and planets light the sky.

The day before I had seen
a couple walking, hand in hand;
Through long corridors
among crowds of an Airport,

In steady, comforting pace
They walked.

In a bubble of peace.

As you and I walk 
along the ocean shore,
Hand in hand, not saying much;
Just listening, feeling, being,
In tune with waves, heavens
With the Whole.

Humbly we accept this Gift
of plenty.
Undeserved perhaps,
Who is judge?

We turn to each other,
eyes bright,
joy bursting forth.

With light steps we return
to a drink on the porch.
Wanting to share the reverence
that fills us both.

Spreading ripples of wonder and serenity.

© miriam ivarson

in clouds