Oh as the melody would
our lives in the balance
so envious
could I be, she, him, her as well,
all of us together
internally a maze of
authenticity
for the stars align,
while magic is a mystery
imagine
this is our legacy
to be two people, three,
maybe more who all believe
the other,
someone outside ourselves
could hold truth
in such is a natural
rhythm
might discover
love.
© Thom Amundsen 1/2021
A dear friend is walking this morning. She told me that is where she discovers her peace of mind. Our world is not the same as it once was, certainly not the last week. We carry a lot upon our minds. While weathering the storm of Covid and a confusing political atmosphere, we can be thankful that one aspect of our lives remains fluid, abundantly available, and welcoming. Nature is now our refuge, fresh air, beauty and serenity all await our heart with open arms.
The ‘hoar frost’ has been particularly abundant this January. I noticed it on the treetops nearby as the sun rose in a morning fog – a rather spectacular setting I wish I might have caught on camera to use in this observation, but the camera would not have done the moment justice. What it did do though is give me a moment of pause. I imagined my friend on her own walk experiencing the same many miles away, and yet so close because the elements of nature can draw everyone together with meaning. How many times have we watched a full moon from our backyard, knowing someone hundreds of miles or continents away would soon do the very same? We are all in position to know that nature offers a universal release so valuable during such an improbable time in our lives.
This week I have struggled with the events of January 6th. I watched testimonial after testimonial on social networks decry the circumstances, challenge the motivation, denounce and vilify the actions that turned our world visually upside down. Everyone has right to an opinion, I believe that, I always have. Being able to provide an eloquent answer or solution has never been my forte, so I really didn’t know how I wanted to write about this moment in our history. Obviously I do like to write, so this did provide quite a quandary.
So here is my testimonial. I gathered Mak! together this morning, and we took a walk, and just, well, I’m grateful for the fresh air and beauty of a mild winter day. I appreciate the wonder of a morning breeze upon my naked skin. I delight in the startling nature of my dog’s fascination with a crust of snow on the path. I pray that we can all find peace of mind, and know that our heart beats with the same fierce resilience we all might rely upon to carry ourselves through life’s darkest moments.
Close your eyes and breathe.
© Thom Amundsen 1/2021
Policy and truth
patterns in protestations.
~
What I saw today
might be the same tomorrow,
a different lens
similar sorrow.
When tears do well my eyes
could you be my mirror …
would you let me stand nearby
though uneven would be our worlds.
~
Seems an opportunity to feel you close by
might help heal hearts wanting only a cry.
©️Thom Amundsen 1/2021
Words will only restrain
such is beauty in motion.
An actual acknowledgment
within a silent serenade.
For this is love
when planning matter not.
For love is
somehow a quizzical reminder.
Our lives not bound by preface
if we live in simple harmony.
Love is
a quiet refuge stills the shadows.
©️ Thom Amundsen 1/2021
Starts in the morning sunlight
when awoken by the light of day.
Makes one wonder a clarity
though having lives found far away
provides an amorous vulnerability
would that eyes clearly dream a night.
When once there was memory found
now shall be the reality drawn as one
in arms where eyes can feel such peace
such are romantic airs find release.
Without sweet nostalgic honesty won
how might our lives ever find ground.
Tonight she does in soft memory remind,
silence a soulful nature, in love is kind.
©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020
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
Everyone has a favorite color
tonight I’ll pick blue
for any number of reasons
this seems to resonate
not just the hue,
state of mind or mood or choice
as someone said to me
tonight.
We make a decision within ourselves
to decide upon what it is
we want to focus upon,
sadness?
depression?
do we even know what that means anymore?
I spoke with a friend recently,
she was telling me about something personal,
and the subject of therapy came into
our conversation,
and I discovered after revealing all of my years
of therapy,
she hadn’t ever gone to see anyone.
Ever.
I thought about it myself
and know
times in my life would not allow me to be here
right now,
writing these words if I had not
myself
bought into my life the value
of letting someone hear my problems
and then try to give me
direction afterward.
We live in that world,
one that refuses to allow vulnerability
to encompass our heart and soul,
when truthfully if we don’t reach out,
we stay alone with our thoughts,
and how in the end
has that lent anything to do with the color of
blue.
© Thom Amundsen 12/2020
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
So often would I return
terrors of childhood
only heard in a solo
preoccupied mind.
Would that I focus upon ills
and yet now she allows
soft is a memory
sweet in mind and soul
where heart does speak
of muse and mystique.
©️ Thom Amundsen 12/8/2020
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
