Sitting Around In Summertime

I was thinking about the other night

when the sun shined in my apartment,

slats creating patterns across the woodwork.

I thought I might rather watch them fade across the walls

then close the shudders when in the evening

I no longer wondered about the outside

only that happening in here tonight.

~

Seems there are changes ahead I can see

only recently have the words begun to make any sense

thinking about what might be out there

along with figuring out who I might be.

I see the warmer temperatures start to surround our days,

attractive in their symbolic nature of settling our soul

letting life fill our hearts as is love in her manner.

~

I know that you can see … everyone in their own lives

going about the business of being who we might be,

perhaps that we wanted all along and only later,

later in life when we had to know, then we began.

See it is that quiet fountain of life we seek

sometimes seeing it in the shadows

always nervous of being exposed in stark light of day.

~

I think I will try to take a walk today, maybe a bicycle ride,

perhaps just breathe a little differently than the other night.


© Thom Amundsen 5/2021

~

Some Times While Waiting

Easily we might understand the loss of time,

when we did hope there would be some remind

of a sweeter revenue

in the gifts of our humankind.

 

So often is it true when we wake

from a lesson learned,

an anxious melody of circumstance,

and gathering our senses seem surreal.

 

Walking along the avenue, we notice

a person lost inside their own reality,

yet to the onlooker,

for deep within we know not their serenity.

 

Cast a shadow upon this my truth,

while the world around me does

restore me some time to when in my youth,

I knew only love, only peace … in my youth.

Aging Abandon

I’ve watched their bodies change

while I try to recall just when

I began to notice.

I often wonder if while

my own world begins a

natural decay,

if that resilient nature

in understanding why

continues to grow,

or when does it wane.

How purposeful is our

inherent decline, and when

do we know it is happening,

or can we fool ourselves

right up to the end of a journey,

sort of similar to crossing the trail,

at the river’s edge.

We cannot remember

just how slippery the rocks

became that day we

finally decided to help

ourselves to the natural

surrounding woods.

Sigh, Autumn

A heavy weight streams beyond a worried eye

skin tease a glint of aftershock in sky,

summer wind reveals the loss, Her hot ardor

romantic wisp, now memories adore

~

When as a lad out the doors I could run

passion a reminder of setting sun

hours ahead an arctic ground would near

then frozen ice and cool air’s freeze so dear.

~

Today the sensuous beauty of mind

play a melody for we are in kind

a humanity compelled beyond land

without innocence simple reprimand.

~

Would that the open sky begin to cry

I’m left in comfort, still wondering why.

Live Long Lives – A Sonnet

ageism

We wait, anticipate a reckoning day,

while minutes and hours, sweet time and weeks

pass, lives breathe a continuum’s foray

descending into valleys, climbing peaks.

What is that which is out of our control?

Looms often, sweeps sweet, truth is, yes, at hand,

Our desire to know peace, beautiful

becomes lost in greedy needs we command.

When have we held the actual passion,

serene in love, humility’s magic.

Bearing down on ritual’s progression,

a constant, knowing life can be tragic.

Within the scope of mortality’s chance

Show glowing fervor, speak with elegance.