The Contemplative

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The Contemplative

In the whisper you find yourself
The contemplative being within,
seemingly fragile, needing peace;
Always striving for space.

In a world where storms roar,
created by nature and mankind
We need to find a temple of calm
where clamour can’t rule.

With no haste, the room is there
bide your time within.
Rising with the morning rays,
The Contemplative smiles.

It was always there, the space,
Let the wonder of light and colour
be the decoration of your special room.

It is within you and me,
within all who want to see,
Access the depth of ourselves
Of nature and life in all form.

© miriam ivarson


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GIFTS YOU CAN’T WRAP

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GIFTS YOU CAN’T WRAP

To celebrate, to love and give,
all natural impulses for those we love,
for anyone that made your heart smile
who held your hand when times were hard;

And danced with you in sun and rain.

Gifts wrapped in beautiful paper and bows
are a treasure to cherish,
The contents can make you squeal with joy
and hug the person who knew you so.

On my birthday the other day I found,
often the best gifts don’t come wrapped.
A surprise morning breakfast prepared by a friend
with all your favourite things.

Candle lit and with Buck’s Fizz as starter.

Door bell ringing, delivery of so many flowers
I got hidden behind, laughing at the beauty,
Laughing at the balloon, like a little girl.

A message to get ready for a car arriving at noon,
Bringing us all to the sea and a little town,
for awesome walk in the sun
Among barge boats, beach and birds.

I just smiled.

Oh, a lunch on the quay side was included too;
Driving home my eyes shone with tears of joy.

©miriam ivarson

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MUSIC IN ALL

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MUSIC IN ALL

It is here again, live music pours forth
so shimmering and bright,
Making the air and us quiver
as each note streams and sings;

Creating a whole.

With strength and passion it enchants
my heart swells with joy.
Where and how did his music grow so,
reach heights, trying to express;

Feelings, events, beauty, sorrow and joy
won’t be contained, need to be told.
I can feel him ask the piano for more,
asking each string to give its all.

Give from strong emotions
carried within his young and strong heart.

He teaches me importance of striving our most
To express our heartaches, our love and joy.
To express life itself
knowing it can never be contained,

no more than the music of rain
falling on a lake or on leaves of a tree,
The symphony of storm on the sea
or the quiet sounds of your heart and breath.

Music surrounds us, heals us
At times wakes numbed minds

©miriam ivarson

 

INTROSPECTION

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Introspection

As I sit here this morning
my bedroom flooded with Star light,
Yes, the glorious sun,
It silences many of my reflections.

Like, what does my soul look like and where
does it live?
Why does my heart quiver so often
seeing remarkable beauty or dark?

Yet, as I sit here in the golden light
I do no longer feel the need to know.
It is enough, more than enough
To just be.

To touch, see, feel with loving
the miracles surrounding me.

Suddenly I see, my soul is me,
the rest is chemistry, physics, biology
and marvellous they are;

As they let my soul traverse
The wonder of Earth and Stars.

© miriam ivarson

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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FORGIVE – FORGET

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FORGIVE – FORGET

Can we forgive ourselves
wrong choices and mistakes,
smile at decisions that shone?
Both part of learning and growth.

Part of the fabric of life.

Can we forgive others for pain they caused,
foul actions and words?
Not brood or let them darken our days?
Can we hurl burdens overboard.

How easy the ship would sail, unladed.

I believe we can forgive,
I wonder, what about forget?
How would it feel to toss all darkness to the winds.

Would the sun shine brighter
would we skip with joy?

Our brain holds memories,
can there still be acceptance and peace?
I believe so,
we can put the millstones down
one by one.

Don’t be slaves, carrying weights long gone;
Let them be absorbed by Cosmos so vast,
where neither time nor thought exist.

Imagine to feel free,
feel the joy of dance
see the sunset, really behold.

Forgive yourself and others
walk with knowledge and no rancour,
smile at passers by.

In sunshine or soft rain.

© miriam ivarson

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SNOW DROP

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SNOW DROP

What a joy looking through the window,
this morning was special;
Frost had given way to gentle sun.

Above all, a whole hamlet of Snowdrops sang,
I promise you, they really did.
Dressed in shining white against darker hues,
they called us to celebrate too.

To celebrate the return of life,
from hidden slumber in the ground.

I looked up at the Lilac tree above
and smiled,
It wouldn’t be outdone, their buds were swollen
also singing of spring.

Blackbirds and Robins were feeding on the lawn,
My special Robin came to the windowsill.
We twittered together of many things
and he taught me to sing.

I opened the window and fed him sunflower seeds,
He twittered happily so I think he was pleased.

Now, I am twittering to you,
glad of the lesson I learnt;
There is always beauty in each day.

I better go, my coffee is getting cold.

© miriam ivarson

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Loving heart

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Loving Heart

I talked to my heart this morning
in the quiet of the dawn;
It was restive and had lost its rhythm,
I felt it had been asked too much

carrying burdens and worries each day.

I put my hand above this faithful heart
that kept working day and night,
In spite of work, worry, sorrow and strain
at around 100,000 beats a day.

Now it was confused and had lost its way,
the rhythm was fractured and danced;
Seemingly any which way.

So I whispered, I love you dear heart,
I will help, together we will find peace again.
I asked forgiveness for thoughtlessness.

Sweetly I talked also to the brain, we agreed,
stress and hurry should be banned,
A new regime was to begin
one of trust and calm.

So with this in mind, I started with calmer steps,
lit some candles for breakfast and watched,
just observed, buds on bushes and trees;
Rain watering them all and sun soon to warm.

I wanted to restart in harmony with them;
Allowing healing powers to flow.

© miriam ivarson