Spontaneity In Crisis

Well it’s the tears really,

come out of nowhere,

set me in stone clearly

don’t want to live there.

~

Watching a television show

a melodramatic morning

in any mundane episode I go

tearing up and mourning.

~

Tearing up and mourning,

haven’t any idea what it might

mean, why it is this warning,

get my act together before night

~

fall, this constant departure

this need to somehow navigate.

My emotions are raw for sure

I wish I might sometimes relate.

~

Motives and opportunities

pass me by not out of reach

my own sadly, feigned scrutinies

are nothing the world will teach.

~

Have to find a way out of this dream.

Have to find a way out of this dream.

Spontaneity holds so much promise,

Have to find a way out of this dream.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

When Last We Imagine

It isn’t until we know,

that we decide

we won’t go down that path again,

we want to,

want to stay there,

watch the leaves turn

see the beauty laid out before us,

when no one need be nearby

to remind us of just what was there

all this while

all this time

energy spent just wondering why,

hoping to trigger some solution,

lays only in our defense

without any real resolve,

until that day,

that singular moment,

a cathartic wind in a naked sky,

where clouds will part

stars come alive at night,

and our mind,

this simple run of thoughts and dreams

becomes like that of a trance,

lost in the horizon stretching toward the galaxy.

~

For a moment we did step away from our reality,

for a time did we realize we didn’t need to decide,

for just a beat, a heart beat, did we,

imagine.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Whom Would Choose

if in a quiet corner of her room

all of her pain revealed

would it matter little personal doom

holds back what is sealed.

~

She rose above the scrutiny

a measure of confidence

silent resolve speaks dignity

all others a spoken chance

~

She wished her life could remind

what purpose a challenge

a reason for losing dramatic bind

sort through all, rearrange.

~

She reclines with truth in her chair

a peaceful sweet posterior

should that any man might dare

in curiosity her own interior.

~

We live by design our own release

for this a measure is granting peace


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

The Rains

I sat with a desk lamp nearby

listening to the rains,

I knew clearly the reason why

this forest maintains

~

such wonderful animations in the mind,

a forest may the soul in peace unwind.

~

Earlier in the afternoon sunlight

before the setting of dusk,

I watched the clouds in plumes might

settle into a natural melodic busk.

~

I listened to the rains and next the tears

would speak quiet to my mind

wishing only might I ever quell fears

shook her away to rewind

~

Yet I couldn’t help but wish such beauty

might hold promise to love

as would the sound of rains serenely

slicing through the skies above…

~

Such wonderful animations in the mind

a forest may the soul in peace unwind.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021 

Last Spoken

When while every moment of life speaks

with the echo of nature,

some choose a concrete sentiment.

Is it possible to know last words

perhaps spill similar sound.

~

I wanted to say every moment meant

the exact opposite of what remains,

yet, the words, the voice, our own

struggle to be the immediate in

what we might believe,

would not allow any reveal,

we did, I did, squandered away

such is this momentum to relive.

~

Now will be a slow silence,

forever quiet with resolve …

ambling, fading into the summer sky,

when a melody speaks aloud

its strength is less,

like some lost memory we

no longer find to be anything

ever so important as it once

maybe one time held before.

~

I could not be capable of compassion

if meaning were a facade in my mind.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

Solace Undefined

One of my favorite words might be overused,

less important to you

even if spoken in the nature of

you.

Could we ever really give final definition

to the thoughts we realize

are sometimes a notion

in our mind.

I would sit here all day long only to offer

her a moment of quiet peace

in her silence

her own space.

If every time I would suggest I want only

to offer you a moment of silence,

that feeling of abandon

without loss.

I once sat by a lake and as waters rippled,

my tears did flow, a sort of God moment

actually it was that moment,

and my tears did fall.

Wonder with me what is the simple act

of sight, of knowing, of feeling

where our bodies become

an artistry of love.


© Thom Amundsen  7/2021

Changing Paths – I Still Do

We all know what we believe

in the moment

as we breathe the air around us

would our lives begin to rush

beyond the truth of

what is love,

what lays within our heart,

how does the soul feel sweet reckoning.

~

I have experience in the truth of

changing paths

listened to fear

tried to understand reasoning

when even so, there is one person involved

in the mindset of two,

there is the quandary between me and you.

~

Your fear of changing my path,

if you study the real

then might you possibly feel the beauty

of one’s sacrifice to know life with the other,

to completely give ourselves

to one another.

~

I did love you, and I was willing to go anywhere

your desire would wish enhance our passion.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

A Week in the Wood and a Lake

I spent the week in one of my favorite places, along the shores of Lake Superior. I camped in the Temperance river, and fished, hiked, and took a bike ride. But the most telling moments of the week were reaching the summit of Eagle Mountain, and sitting on a rock next to the shoreline watching the sunrise every morning. I don’t know if I could better reach the peace of mind available to us all in these natural surroundings. I know today, hands on how difficult it may be on the psych and the body to return to the concrete of the cities.

A goal of mine has always been to hike up Eagle Mountain. I have heard it to be challenging and especially the last half a mile before you find the summit is quite rock laden, so as they say, wear your hiking boots. I think one of the spectacular pieces of the hike are watching the tops of the trees lower as you further yourself up the mountain. Soon the overlooks begin to occur and they are everywhere with a few steps any direction from the highest point. There is a plaque speaks to the history of the summit, and it was so refreshing to sit there for a minute or two and be grateful to the nature around me. I realize these are soft mountain hikes and there are potentially higher and more challenging ones down the road, God willing.

On my hikes I have begun carrying one small rock in each hand, weight enough to balance my stride when walking. I found a couple at the start of the hike and set them down next to me as I had some trail mix before my adventure back. Once I began I realized I had left them where I was sitting, so I picked up a couple more, as they still belonged to the nature around me. I was told of this idea by a friend years ago, and I have mentioned the practice before, but recently it has had a profound effect on my connection to the environment around me. The walk allows the rocks to maintained that balanced cadence that carries me home, and now they are on a shelf in my home, where I do hope to gather many sets over the next couple of decades. Hiking has become a passion with me that I struggled with for many years. I cannot suggest why it is more relaxing, just that it is compelling and has become freeing.

On Lake Superior I found a rock where I sat each morning and watched the sunrise and observed a different flow of waves hitting the shoreline each time. The first day the water was calm and the second pleasant waves graced the rocks and boulders around the shoreline. On the third day there were quite stunning waves, the sort that imagined there would be surfers somewhere on the lake today, assuredly wearing wet suits given the temperature of this lake.

The fourth brought a calm again, but the waves still indicated a new presence. On that day, the same rock, same time of morning, no one else on the shoreline, I felt tears come and I let them go. There are so many reasons in my life to have tears, and yet so often we don’t allow them to flow. We hold them back. On this morning, I let them go, and I sobbed, and I didn’t wipe the tears, I wanted the feel them on my cheeks, my skin, my body. The moment was truly cleansing and brought by my expressing a gratefulness for the serenity of the lake. I provided apologies, and hopes, and dreams, and a desire to remain present in my life. I thanked the water in a manner of speaking to God, and the moment felt incredibly peaceful. My coffee finished, I got in my packed vehicle and started out my return to the cities.

There is something rather unusual about my time alone lately, camping travels, bike rides, attending events. It feels good, and thus far it feels right. It helps to balance the pain. I am learning how to ‘be’ as a dear friend plead me to do in the early days of the dissolution of my marriage. I am learning how to be ok. But it does take time. I would like to believe I am there, I have arrived, and for the moments I experienced this week on the summit and near the lake, I am confident I met those goals.

I look forward to the next adventure ahead.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

I Remember Reading

If you think about someone,

they are a reflection of your life,

this person.

She compels you to imagine their well-being,

sweet her Grace of compassion

you discovered

glancing in her eyes.

~

I read a book about love,

two people so swept

by one another’s sensuality

that no one else could intercede

their own imagination.

~

I want to read a book about love,

two people swept

within one another’s passion

a world around and about oblivious

in their own mystique,

such is the life of two compassionate soul.

~

I knew a woman one year

she stole my heart

and anything near

may only remind me of

her eyes,

her elegance,

her genuine smile.

~

In a sundress one shimmery afternoon

she could steal the heart of many and all.


©️ Thom Amundsen 6/2021

Wishing Dreams

A spirit guide might visit a passion

setting in stride life’s beauty is a ride.

Yet time does wait upon internal

remnants churning within my psyche.

While outside lives a life of pleasantry

agreeable acceptance and absolutes,

if only the traveling disdain subside.

Would then wishful dreams pass forward

an energy with love could line a reel.

May then we be happy with our fate.

May then lives a sigh for love too late.


©️ Thom Amundsen 6/2021