Finding Words

When inside a cavern of loneliness

the sense of light

that beacon of direction

seems rather amiss.

The discovery of finding self

always out of reach

lost bathing near a sunrise

yet still tied in

feeling the rocks and dripping stone

maintain a hold

letting only this internal air be a guide.


We can talk ourselves out of

sharp crags, edges, finding security

in good footing

yet words seem to

fall short tossing

an avalanche of self-confidence,

continue to wade in the mire,

we wait upon an out.


Seems we will draw words

with our imagination,

yet diving in is our only recourse.


We need to recognize the possibility,

to search inside of ourselves

find a target

set our course and commit.

Words will only alone

run astray of a seeming peace.

© Thom Amundsen

Unable to Land

This is a dark cavern

like a dream.

Travel in a descent,

the walls are cold and icy


into a long black hole.

A foreboding anxiety

rests on shoulders

knowing only some faith

will allow

a waking moment.

Speed is remarkable

when caught in the cyclone

drifting aimless

wanting only to step off …


Open your eyes

see the wonder

life has offered

on opportunity

floating in space

all fears might erase

that backstory

the narrowing tube

looked like life

might suffocate

your dreams.

Now we are floating

gravity is a notion

as we fly throughout this

open cavern

Now the only concern


where to land.