These Are Our Days

We know them

no filter moments

side swept rains tease snow

feel moisture on naked socks

walking the dog

a midnight rendezvous

perhaps routine to some

yet

tonight, today, last year

that calendar date

might, may, will, has, did,

does always, wants forever a return.

Remember once quiet

impassioned plea.

I will always be here, nearby

holding your hand, crossing paths,

nostalgic eyes.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

Finding A Ledge

Oh, I remember

standing in a safe distance

watching them play the risk to the edge,

wondering of the five there,

two over near,

a dozen way beyond the fence,

were any one

vulnerable,

wondering just really curious about the edge,

the immediacy of leaving behind

memory and travels.

~

I’ve stood on many a ledge

decades of indecision,

yet somehow the gravel maintained

my grip,

or I got a call for a dinner reservation,

turned around, walked away,

and the thought drifted off the edge.

~

Have you ever had a sort of quiet peace,

knowing there are those ledges

each of us

can share together,

rather than having to imagine

too much fear,

far too much confusion,

might bring us back upon

some lonely ledge.

~

The truth is,

not every ledge has room for

alone.


© Thom Amundsen 12/2020

This Peace in Our Lives

We do share an anxiety

Achy legs

Grab a thermometer

Now a strange earache out of

Nowhere really normal anywhere.

We live in high risk

Hyperventilating our every move.

And then we try to calm

Try to recall the common cold …

Well not as much tonight as I have let

This certain earache

Rule my state of mind.

Though a sunny day

Awaits tired eyes.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

During Those Days

Remember when we were kids,

the spruce saplings in backyard acreage

we tore through those  – sticks and rage,

long before we misunderstood cyber-kids.

 

Back then, way back when, back in the day

we figured our lives were then forever

never imagined hearts we love might sever

would we really have to stay inside today

 

Simple solutions surrounded our lives when

everyone around, the supporters we did glean

at least that illusion gave us strength as a teen.

Nothing needed last forever way back then.

 

We were a now, an immediate satisfaction

long before ever a need for this gratification.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2020

Critical Circumstance

We do measure

our lives

our accomplishments

a steadfast ability to compete with

ourselves.

If might our lives not be

so easily swept by the tides of societal

expectation

what then might be our

end game.

Would we survive if we came

to realize

nothing else really mattered

beyond the satisfaction of, inevitably,

ourselves?

 

Oh so we are told,

or perhaps

in the manner of a scold,

to look to ourselves,

yes, us,

not beyond the measure of our soul,

only to recognize

the deeper commitment of our own

personal salvation,

must always be in the realm

of some

internalized realization.

 

Our lives,

who we are,

the world in which we have lived,

is based upon action,

only,

not philosophy,

more aptly

in the end,

it is truly the strides

we have taken in our own

efforts to not compromise what we believe,

instead we do try

to emulate

the beauty around us,

the simple freedom of appreciation,

rather than that criticism

of who we are,

what we might have been,

where we shall travel in our

long extended remaining

steps along some

theoretical

path in our lives.

 

We live to see tomorrow,

therefore is it presumptuous to believe

a next day matters less

than what has promised itself to be

the beauty of our past.

 

Forge ahead with a passion

this is the matter of such is wise.


© Thom Amundsen 1/2020

Pieces of Me

Wish I could find

smallish memory

wrap them in twine

drop them in the sea

Then might my eyes

witness some effort

now questioning why

an absorbent support

Will their history

rather sink than float

farewell this century

shadowed life he wrote

Above water may I not abhor

Pain left living on the ocean floor

Are We All The Same

Do we feel pain

rather simple agony

stepping upon cracks

forgetting  what is civility.

 

Sitting in another quiet

century

last one

got away from me.

 

Wandering in my mind

his heart became

a wonder

just how far our lives –

 

Could we see

the light of day

when the birds own

the world with melody.

 

Might we all see the truth

in love

rather than the pain

in inherent  with difference?

 

Walk away from deceit,

rather knowing life is a feat.

 

Moments of Despair

When last the afternoon

spoke upon broken lives

a slow heartbeat of sad

fortune would allow

a silence.

 

For while lives

might be forever

drawn the reality

of shattered dreams

spoken.

 

Out loud the river

runs deep with

somber current

an epiphany in steady

current.

 

Thought to be gibberish

real moments of despair

lost in a lush forest

holding strong in her

memory.

 

Would he that cry

within the summer

breeze a faltering

echo screams of need

forsaken.

Walk With Me

A ride through hell

night sky invisible

the mind on fire

a slow reckoning.

 

When inside a dream

we might walk alone

finding only silence

her differed mystique.

 

Life happens so bold

is this all there is

again and again

the reputation of love.

 

Tight spaces and weight

the sort of ride we fear

nowhere to go

miles beyond our comfort

 

zone, that place we know

subtle glance vanish

her heart his tears

wondering just how when.

 

Might without an ask

realize this is forever,

though hope again,

a reminder of nostalgia.

 

Step across that threshold,

the battered soul will

always remind always

the surface far and away.

 

Walk with me he said,

she gave a glance,

his favorite moment

her eyes rolling in smile.

 

If two people might

move beyond the status

quo to appreciate real

love, certain passion.

 

When last we spoke,

an icy crest had shadowed

what once was a fire

felt with the scope of time.

 

Oh to have that energy

Speak desire, our synergy

Are You Ok?

How do you ask

Why do you ask

Well, I’m alright

yeah, I am.

 

We cannot predict this stuff

nod your head

show affirmation

let the tears come

think about …

children nearby …

grown adults

they’re watching you,

loving you,

thanking you.

 

Everyone in the room is

grateful

within the tears,

they are laughing together

celebrating  the beauty of you,

you, today, embody love.

 

Today you shine

as much as any other day,

yet,

everyone with shielded eyes

is taking their moment

acknowledging your time

realizing how precious

life is today

while we bid adieu

some way away

we would ask, wish,

know.