A Week Doesn’t Matter

Tears remain the same,

the task ahead not as daunting as the moment,

yet we haven’t chosen to let go

of the moment.

Perhaps the force of human nature in all of its eventuality

will call our hand

where then we will be asked by being told,

it is time to move on, create another new world,

paint a new landscape, start another chapter.

Seek a new sunrise until our plans

burn to a crisp

and we are suggested to find another path,

step out of this rabbit hole

for today it is worn

and tomorrow there waits another

perhaps it will carry your outlook for years,

maybe weeks,

only hours.

Either way it will be different than today.

Oh, that is always what they say.

How Do We Measure Love

When so many songs on the airwaves speak of love lost

found in the quietest regions of our mind,

shared love

remember love

let only our silence remind us all what love might be.

~

Tonight I would think about her in the softest light

to see the gleam in her eyes

evening stars would be our twilight

sweet love

that passionate tale we told one another.

~

I sometimes will openly crucify myself for letting my heart

steal only the strength of my soul

when pulled together

I haven’t any way to ever relive the magic

once the candle has swallowed its wick.

~

I did love you that part is true and everyone I know

will always see when in a glance, eyes remind us of you.

__________________________________________________________

© Thom Amundsen 6/2021

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

~

The Color Blue

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

This Sunday Morning

We are starting to contemplate what it is we have done this year, one so very unique to our world, our lives, our state of mind. I think we all began the year in much the same way, dealing only with our personal needs and always aware of the world around us. Some of us championed resolutions, a few of us cleaned out chapters of our lives, and many woke up and believed it was just another day in succession of many. Why wouldn’t each of those directions make complete sense as we imagine our day today.

It is Sunday, a day that at the start of the year I had begun returning to Mass after many decades of sporadic holiday attendance, I was liking the opportunity and its meditative balance on my life. Then a few weeks later, I was not. I was not alone. This time it wasn’t because of lack of interest, none of us could. On top of everything else in our lives, we were now asked, suggested, mandated to isolate ourselves for the safety of others. I remember in the early weeks of shelter at home, I would run off to the grocery store, a limited activity, and as the sun was setting in the west, I would look at the horizon and imagine zombies beginning to line the hills. Everything was so quiet, no one except for people like me getting groceries or essentials milled about. The moment was eery and unsettling.

Eight months later, I have become a rather good cook. I seldom would make meals in years past, except for the occasional breakfast, or an intriguing recipe, or holiday foods. In the last year though, I used to want to emphasize I hadn’t gone out to eat for weeks, turned into months. But then I had to come to terms with the fact that no one had. When I get out of rehearsals for high school theater, I would often stop for a bite to eat. Now those little moments were part of my grocery run. I’ll call it a win, because the food is better and the advantage is a healthier body.

This summer I needed to go outside. Thankfully we have the woods, the hiking trails and just the open country for walks and bicycle rides. I remember thinking in the early days of Covid19 what if someone a quarter of mile in front of me sneezed while I was bicycling into a head wind? That really went through my mind, much like taking my dog to the dog park and worrying about other people wanting to pet him, and thereby bringing their germs into my home. Nobody knew, some of us cared, some thought it was and still do believe it a hoax. I’ve seen the numbers of people who have died, not by choice. I have been a believer from the beginning.

Our lives are all unique and yet we live them quite similarly to one another. We need a good sleep, a warm meal, a favorite book or piece of music, a companion nearby. All of this sounds rather normal right? The thing to recognize is there are many that do not have all or any of the opportunities or lifestyle habits I just mentioned. There are people who are alone and haven’t sometimes the strength to endure this rather unprecedented and certainly sad and frightening time in our lives. This is a time of year when often we are suggested to raise our awareness of those less fortunate than ourselves. Now more than ever.

We do come upon that time of year in America where we will celebrate the holiday, the essence of family being together to share the love we all have created in our lives. Many question our ability to have feast in that manner of tradition and we find ourselves quietly confused, making different plans. We do come upon that time of year in the world where we celebrate the truth of universal love in however manner our cultural strengths bring us together. What is important is we do remain focused on what will alleviate some of the anxiety and disorientating nature of this temporary period of our lives. Acts of kindness and a simple element exist.

There really isn’t anything traditional about this year moving into the holidays except for perhaps one common denominator: Love. We all know kindness and the smile it puts on our face, the safe remedy an emotion provides our need to feel.

This is a Sunday morning, and I am in my comfortable chair with a favorite music playing, my dog wandering about checking on me thinking of his next walk in the coming hour. I’m sipping my coffee and looking forward to watching a ball game this afternoon. Tonight I will plan the week ahead. Life remains normal as long as we can allow ourselves to realize there is goodness during this temporary period of our lives. Though we must be conscious of the reality being we are not alone, all of us in our circumstance hold an energy lets us know we are together miles away or nearby.

When we can, as long as we are able, reach out, for there is something substantial being passed upon one another than simply memory not realized. We all exist together, kindness and love being symbolic of that grateful nature of our humanity. We can this year celebrate with an even stronger recognition than during a normalcy we haven’t known yet taken for granted for quite some time.

Love. Be Kind.


© Thom Amundsen  11/2020

A Positive Trust

We walked alone inside a dream

there was always the moon in the sky

kept an eye on every internal scream

forever we were we might not deny.

 

I walked outside alone tonight,

looked up and there it was looming

awaiting someone romantic might

wish the beauty of life becoming.

 

The nature of the moon in a cool breeze

just lets us stand in silent appreciation,

she would know the same is in her ease

would she might remember such passion.

 

The human condition, walks a lone evening

always breathe could thrive our beginning.


© Thom Amundsen 10/2020

In Darkness There is a Blue

Trying to find that color,

searching since a child,

I remember gatherings

with friends my age and teenage elders,

those we all wished to emulate,

sitting amongst ourselves,

laughs, giggles, smiles,

seduction,

every aspect of the human condition,

would enhance this sensation,

our sensory being.

~

I could lay in the middle of a field

soft whisper of midnight breeze

look at the sky, the miles of sky

stars and occasional glints of light,

a shooting star where a wish is missed

so then in that singular moment

a self-critical adamant fear

begins to sweep through the forest

the moment gone now,

left feeling cold in a farmer’s field.

~

Twenty years later, or even more now,

decades of afterthought,

the what-ifs, whens, why nots, the who …

we all want to care about something,

and yet,

lost as I could with every search of word,

would it matter at all,

if one day,

the words just failed to appear.

~

I wonder the beauty of a blue horizon,

is it a state of mind or some intricate light show.


© Thom Amundsen 10/2020

The Mechanics of Time

A manner of words will carry weight

for the listener

far more likely than that speaker

for whom the end never arrives.

 

There is a wisdom in the quiet –

when will we ever understand difficulty

is far beyond

a matter of chosen explanation.

 

Might we sacrifice peace of mind

too often

rather than finding a way to live

accepting thoughtful compromise.

 

Certainly one cannot fathom

a notion of defense

would overcome the deceit apparent

is fraudulent dialogue.

 

A communication designed around time

and history,

once revered in a clocked day

become weeks of truth.

 

Days begin weeks become months

the years fly by,

and yet words once shared

do now become a travesty of time.

 

We are in the throes of this ‘human condition’

tossed about like pawns by our own volition.

© Thom Amundsen 8/2020

 

 

On Letting Go

We are told, asked, suggested

sometime simple

plea

allow ourselves

remember only sweet memory.

 

Let the rest

all the pain and heartache

the shame and what ifs

become just that

alone

left in the past.

 

Oh to be so elementary

this a concept

a luxury in the peace of mind

so sought after

a yearning proposal

often unable to be felt

or practiced

analyzed to such a degree

the original idea

lost in the fabric

our own quiet

well-hidden lunacy.

 

For it is that which we seek,

a way to take a break,

leave behind a history

of resentments inside a facade

of happiness and a vision

would tell anyone nearby

life ‘rolls off of me’

and then I say goodbye

for today will be the promise

an uncharted new way.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2020