Rays of light peek through shuttered windows
shall the slats be opened or assure privacy,
a morning of which one surely glows
the energy blocked would be a travesty.
At my desk I look for inspiration
seems the night put aside
for the moment is more solution
to dredging horrors inside.
If present means a slow journey
then this my day would tell
a starting point with no hurry
only desire deep in the well.
I would climb if love awaits me
or choose to find what must be.
© Thom Amundsen 10/2021
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