FLY PAST

Fly past of peace

Mankind is fighting itself
trying to find balance and peace.
Yet, in the fighting more extinction occurs.

How can killing and destruction ever lead
to peace, to harmony and growth.
It never did and never will.

Yet most of us wish to live in unity,
To sing, work and play
To see our children grow, surrounded,
yes, I say the word. Surrounded by love. 

We are all citizens of this World. 

c/ miriam ivarson

UNANIMITY

Unanimity

Love makes you strong
yet helpless at times.
Love can move mountains
yet not heal a suffering friend.

We can comfort, soothe and help,
hold a hand, give courage, but
can we remove the core pain?

Is being there enough when storm roars?

I look at the birds and see their ease
their natural being, living free today;
I listen to shouting and angry voices
who think they know how to lead.

I say, you don’t know a thing.
We all need care, love and togetherness.
Not anger and weapons,
lifeless tools for creating a whole.

Fragmented you leave the world.

Let love and care be behind our actions
it is surprising how good that feels,
Remember, we are all the same
and yet unique.

Our souls will whisper our songs
They will all sing in tune.

© miriam ivarson

CHANCE ENCOUNTERS

 

      CHANCE ENCOUNTERS                                          

      I met a gracious lady, she smiled,
      light lit her eyes;
      I dropped a curtsy to the wise woman
      showing my respect.
      Do we honour those wiser than us, often enough;

     The Lady spoke to me, we shared,
     experiences of life.
     of joys, pains and love.
     Her road was gilded but her heart had bled,
     my mother would love her, that is enough said.

     We walked among  roses, talked about heroes,
     of our children, with humour and delight, 
     about countries and people.
     About the sky, the oceans and nature’s force.

     We found unity.

     I walked up a mountain in a far away land,
     met a Shepherd resting with his flock.
     You have come, he said, seeking long
     please sit down, share my fare.

     Quietly I did as the old man said.

     We talked softly about life,
     its passions and grieves, it’s beauty and joy.
     What can you hear, the old man asked
     I was quiet for a while, then said;

     The mountain stream, the wind through the grass.

     The old man smiled and his eyes shone bright.
     You have come a long way, he said
     but you found the core of peace.

     Do never forget the mountain stream, the wind
     Let stillness and wonder live in your soul.

     © miriam ivarson

The creek (crick) outside our balcony