As Rains Might Fall

A quiet solitude, soft patterns of rain,

in a breeze tossed there and about

would I know the sounds would soothe

my soul in any moment of wonderment.

~

I do lay upon a silent morning when steady

the waters of a sweet melody and scents

olfactory carry my mind distant to my nearby

retirement, that seeks some cast upon peace.

~

Outside my porch I listen and watch

the morning birds gather their strength

feed upon such is a seed to bring delight

to the eye of a human yearning for love.

~

Could a tear be reconciled when memory

allow our hearts to feel splendor in song.


© Thom Amundsen 5/2021

A Gentle Breeze

I woke to their singing

like lounging by the river

a fresh morning dew

preparing us a sky as blue.

~

This isn’t just remembering

more holding truth to who we

are when a cloudy mind reflect

upon a gentle swaying we select.

~

Last night heard words ringing

soft reminders why we are now

Inside lovely dreams, a fantasy

in strength settling a symbolic sea.

~

I lay in bed awaiting a morning sun

gray skies gifted me a gentle breeze.


©️Thom Amundsen 4/2021

for k

We took a walk together, a cool spring

would flow the night’s waves

lapping upon the evening shoreline

soothing our mind as if to suggest a pause.

An appreciation of stars aligning the sky

we might look forever not mattering

such is the cosmic phenomena

sweet, out of reach yet a dangle

of the mind, handling in the balance,

always guiding our soul so mellow to follow

our heart and know it might surely

belong in one another’s waiting arms.

There lay before us a stream would release

all the moments of indecision with only peace.


© Thom Amundsen 4/3/2021

Confinement

Wish to reveal innermost details

when caught outside a comfort zone.

A simple pleasure perhaps spiritual

becomes less gregarious when alone.

Each time we try suggested walks close,

we know the circumstance of pain

wandering rogue outside common holes,

while the nature of our being refrain.

Once I felt the world beyond the crest,

insignificant inside this nature of man

Where could a good man feel blessed

Only less provocation survives this omen.

I wound up tight without apparent release

though time does plead a quiet peace.


©️Thom Amundsen 3/3021

Inspiration in a Quote

“No matter how dark the moment, love and hope are always possible.”
— George Chakiris

 

I watched as autumn sun began to rise

a day in the life of a man so wise

he would punish himself, lay upon ground

rather than expand upon love he found.

For many years thereafter could we want

a would, a possibility, a taunt.

Such is the value of a peace of mind

when in throes we choose an only rewind.

In times of sorrow we grieve compassion,

the beauty of the human condition

must we shun all adversity favored

shallow sentiment in sorrow wavered.

Our lives touched by the grace of God we weep

we hope and dream our joy will we keep.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2020

Silence is a Forest

Listen to the birds singing in spring
Hear the cello at home in between

Each memory
Each moment

A song we could create in melody
If only the world not live parody
Such is the mendacity of our time
When still is beauty yet sublime

Each moment
Each memory

If in the midst of a traveled rhyme
We shut out a neighbor is a crime,
Only preserve that moment, oh 9/11
Restoration, is love in sweet Heaven

Each memory
Each moment

Now in wood, in silence find our Zen
A patch of forest heart and soul then
Speaks fond of a once nostalgic liberty
We would may always grasp this reality

Oh to know the sound a certain bird will
Sweet a peace of mind, distant cello still


©️ Thom Amundsen 4/2020

Sunsets

IMG_8666

If in the quiet of a soft moment

We were the Ancient Mariner afloat

Might we wander aimless while then emote

In silent harmony a sweet lament.

 

For is the sea one in quiet recall

This guiding reality, timeless shift

A body where many less gentle rift

Would now decide in earnest Man will fall

 

If in this a sunset we are timeless

Study well the waves remain a current

Drawing history will be their torrent

Leads lives grown fond in conditions careless

 

Oh the gift is deep waters telling time

Mystique as might repeat as does this rhyme

 

 

To Reach The Sky

When on a walk one early summer morn

A man began to think of life beyond

He paused to watch while children so forlorn

Seemed occupied in games they thought so fond.

 

While certain parts of life seem unattained

If standing here today would measure love

Then all the man would need to feel restrained

Might be a song, a cooing of a dove.

 

Where have the days begun to slide away

A man who stands alone knows no despair

Yet when the people call there is this way

The sky becomes the answer though we swear.

 

To gather storms to help define a sky

Would leave the afterward a silent cry.

Traveling Alone

Oh, tell me good stranger the outcome of time,

When one solitary sign might feel inclined

To wonder about life in all of its travail,

Is it true a compassionate soul is virtue.

 

Or are we perhaps a mockery of our time,

Imagining only the fantasy of the mind.

How often do we find ourselves, seek

True detail of a life’s personal outpourings

 

I stood behind an oasis of fear for a year,

Each opportunity to run crested by waves

Of discontent, the atmosphere so slick,

I imagined only the word storms present.

 

In knowing a solo follow is enchantment,

Seek a stranger’s road wise enlightenment.

When Society Chooses Self

We do pronounce our selves in an elitist light,

Always to suggest ours is the more important route,

Forever drawn by goals to merit personal might

We seem destined to burn, a wrath soon flames out.

 

When lives become the natural course of a purpose,

Seems suddenly we chart a distance toward a freeing

Way of life, that sort that blends in melody – sweet verse.

We touch the sky with certain aptitude while believing.

 

Always a current turmoil seems certainly human design

When to measure reasoning, we cannot forget the blind

Ideal that gives primary focal point its inherent sign,

Suggests our lives are only a temporary quest we remind.

 

Oh to undermine the truer sense of what concludes a life

Is to know no end to the current belief in a selfish strife.