A Life Force

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A Life Force

I love his voice caressing my ears
Like chocolate slowly melting in the mouth,
I love his steady gaze as I laugh and dance;
Like sun on the skin a summer’s day.

I love the Blackbird having his morning bath
with splash and preening, making feathers shine,
I love his morning song so full of light
praising the dawn, praising life.

I love my best friend in every way,
her bright blue eyes, her shining hair;
I love the care that shines as we meet,
the laughter we share and at times grief.

I trust her without hesitation,
she holds my hand and I hold hers;
We shelter each other and we fly free.

Could that be what I am trying to say,
Love is a life force
Whatever the situation, love enhances,
Expands our life, expands all creation.

© miriam ivarson

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R E T R E A T

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R E T R E A T

The word evokes peace
A choice to find harmony, stillness;
Calming the jumbled, twisted knots
finding the kernel of who we are.

Ordered isolation carries fear,
The fear we all feel at times,
fear of unknown, of loss, of death.

We lose sight of light, of ourselves.
Forget inherent strength
Forget we can love and laugh.

Retreat has a garden, flowers and birds,
All just live and trust.
Could we learn deep hope?

Isolation sounds like prison walls
maybe the word invokes more fear?
The spirit of man will win through,

As the beautiful songs from windows,
Along a street in Italy;
Made me believe in the essence of man.

© miriam ivarson

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

HOLD THE HELM

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HOLD THE HELM

Fear, pride and joy filled my being
I was only eight when my father said;
Come here and stand on this box,
I will show you how to steer 
whilst I check the machines below.

The trawler was huge, how could he trust,
a little girl standing on a box?
I trusted him, but fear was putting up a fight;
Sure I can’t do this, look at the waves,
the enormous rolling waves.

Still, I listened to his instructions, drank them in;
Repeated the beacon to hold in sight.
Excitement and joy overtook me for a while
as the boat did obey my hands on the mighty wheel;

I could hardly believe; My pride grew miles.

Suddenly the vessel was shifted by waves,
my mark disappeared to the right,
Fearful I managed to steer back on course,
took a deep sigh but tension replaced trust.

Another big wave threw me off course;
Now the marker was to the left,
desperately I steered straight again,

I am afraid we wove a wavering path.

When finally, to my relief, my father came back
I was quick to relinquish the helm.

We turned our heads and looked at the path,
the swirling trail behind.
The path I had steered the ship, with my hands.
He smiled and gave me a hug.

You tried so hard but didn’t know how to trust,
the wave would bring you straight back,
Besides, I was always there and felt every move.

Keep your eyes steady on your goal
but relax as well
don’t forget to trust yourself,

also remember, I am always there.

Should a storm blow up, sail against it,
hold firm and ride it out,
Once it is over, return to your goal;
To your beacon.

Without fear continue your path,
Feel the harmony between yourself,
the sea and the sky.

© miriam ivarson 

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