Moments in a Blizzard

Windswept sky designs landmark,

the world is being blanketed by that force

greater than our own,

a magical parade of Nature’s wrath,

in the simplest manner of beauty.

 

Oh her strength apparent

inside the wonder of it all,

the winter storm,

a blizzard upon our discontent,

perhaps we might fly away.

 

Lost inside this forever cycle

our lives are equally drawn

by a static probability

of scant survival in the throes

of a woeful condition.

 

Step inside the winds,

that bury this frozen memory,

covering up our sorrows

so there might be a new desire,

a passion to understand.

 

A realization,

recognizing there is an after-life

to the sparkle – once

no longer remains

inside a youthful dream.

 

There inside the wealth of our

humanity

exists a welcome change,

that ever resilient testimony,

suggests we are all ready,

 

already walking again,

this might provocative winds allow.

 


© Thom Amundsen 1/2020

Walking Upon Time

A reflection spoke prophetic synapse unwind

while the world in mechanical fashion

carried on, carried on inside the mind

sweet redemption await for years of burden.

 

If we could match our inside with the now

would it be easier in a balance

could  heart remind background

our vision, sad eyes, might forever shine.

 

The institution of a societal trial expectation

would the human condition consider

within a framed reference a spiritual

Mecca will always await sendentary soul

 

Wake now to her wondrous a natural task

for all entitlement is a waste

rather a commitment to peace

inside the stranger element of response

 

Our lives, create reawakened possibilities

would that every symbiotic paths beyond

 

 

A Distant Child

In a quiet state I would recognize the distance

Between the now of experience toward childhood

We might wish to have a redo on pain if we could

Seems a simple prospect to imagine all is chance.

 

When returning to some original memory in life

Oh to know the patterns that drove our own fight

Or flight, the summer weather such intrigue in light

Of finding ourselves amongst the massive strife

 

Inside a dream we could walk for miles in the sand

Feeling only the beauty of the sea carrying away our

Imagination, our intrigue with stepping beyond power

That illusion of knowing we could withstand demand

 

Live your life she said, he said the world in silent release

Would rather only our sanity to discover our own peace.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

The Importance of Beauty

We live in a society of measure. Of mirrors and reflections and purposeful glances. We operate by sensing physicality alone, even when made aware of a far deeper context to what is beauty in our lives, in our society. This is an important subject to dwell upon in light of the ugliness we are experiencing in our own country, in the world itself. The idea of glamor far exceeds the recognition of beauty and how it operates in the well-being of ourselves, our friends and family, our planet.

I remember as a young child knowing what beauty was in an innocent mind. I watched Diana Ross on Ed Sullivan, I noticed the screaming young girls at the front of a stage at a concert for the Beatles. I was madly in love with Gidget or Marcia Brady of course. In all those examples I was focusing on their physical attributes, which gave me a foundation as young boy to know what defined beauty in my life. It wasn’t until I watched a dear friend perform her gymnastic composition on parallel bars that I began to know another definition. It wasn’t until I walked home with a school mate, though a couple years older than me, and striking in her glamorous demeanor that I noticed beauty in a different level.

In watching my friend perform I was struck by her commitment to what she loved at the time, an athletic prowess as a young woman, one that allowed her to become a state champion in her abilities. To me that wonderment of effort was beautiful to observe.

Later in life, listening to a friend of the family talk about what is important, as we crossed our familiar bridge on our way home from school, and descended a hill that held our neighborhood. She was teaching lessons as a 12th grader to a 9th grader, how important it was to love yourself before you could love others. In listening to her, I realized there was more than fashionable jeans, a chic style sweater, perfect hair to define the beauty inherent with my friend. She taught me about compassion and that began for me a different focus upon beauty in our lives.

One day as a twelve year old I was getting a ride from my sister to basketball practice. She asked me what was wrong as I slumped in the passenger seat. I told her I was lonely, didn’t know what to do about it. She stopped the car, turned to me and said you have to find a passion in your life. As a twelve year old, I blushed and imagined passion to be something sexual, and I couldn’t believe she was telling me this. She then explained the word passion is not simply about sex, it is about loving what you do, finding something that gives you the ability to believe in yourself because your energy is drawn completely to accentuating your own passion.

That lesson from my sister, the walk with my friend, the athletic prowess of my schoolmate, all of those pieces of my life gave me opportunity to recognize a more holistic approach to understanding beauty in my life.

Certainly as a young man, I was still drawn to the beauty of woman, the wonder of her elegance, in the summertime, the fascination of her stylistic manner of wardrobe on a cold winter’s day, how intriguing it was to know she would be cognizant of a look she wanted to have in the midst of a bustling society. I remember knowing a woman who I watched cross the street one day, wearing a striking rain jacket and green knee high rain boots.

Her image has stayed with me all my life, as did the day she and I were lounging in her apartment, and I commented on her jeans, and she gave me a smile and said she had been wearing them for eight days. I thought that was the coolest thing, her sweet comfort level with her own self image caused me to feel beauty about her person, well beyond a physical characteristic.

I think the deeper context of who we are is often easily forgotten about, put aside, neglected. I have a brother who in his elder life, now sits in an art museum and curates the lovers of a gallery in his home town. We had a chance to visit him one afternoon, and he was so in his element – he knew the history of all the works in the gallery, and his smile radiated as we walked through the rooms. I took his picture afterwards because I wanted to have a record of the beauty that shined from him internally. He looked to be a happy man.

Beauty for me holds a lot of different values. Seeing a band perform live, watching my students reach fruition on the stage with their efforts. Observing a student find their way in a classroom studying a subject they have never understood. Seeing students take chances and risks knowing one another beyond a superficial level. Watching my family evolve as I see my two children continue to strive for happiness in their lives rather than letting hardships discourage them. Having close friends dear to your heart that are there to support you, laugh at your whims, share dialogue and understanding for your own passions.

That word passion comes back every time I struggle. The passion to seek, the passion to address needs of concern, the passion to love. We are a vulnerable lot easily drawn to the pain in our lives rather than seeing the beauty of who we are and accentuating beauty in the lives of those around us. My hope is that the people around me, those I am closest to, can see beauty for what it truly is, to give meaning to what is important, beautiful and eternal in our lives.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

Glance into The Morning Fog

Watching tree limbs bask in the morning fog

Their own shadows hidden from naked eye

We, the observer might question why

Silence in storms, listen a croaking frog.

 

A world exists speak natural balance

Deep in the wood, horrors of life aside

Humanity breathe where watcher reside

A home is habitat for those who chance.

 

While just beyond the gravel road and pond

Live a lifetime in tragic element

Lost souls, lost loves, confusion we lament

Evil is conflict arisen but fond

 

We mourn sweet soul, tragic is sudden death

In the cool dense fog, take solace in breath.



© Thom Amundsen 2019

Subconscious Tears

It’s when the moment is gone

we can feel it

drift away

leaving meaning apart,

the concept shared

decidedly forgotten about

an island

a small fortune of nothing

drifting waves

slap our egos

so we look upon that

sunny horizon

and realize

nothing remembered

take a picture

and years from now,

that moment

we will say hello

to a time

when we glanced

upon that memory

means nothing today,

same old mechanical

afterward of

meaning,

we drift away,

we say ok,

we want to fly

away in a simple

good-bye.

Life As We Know It

Listen to a melody if you please

one familiar to the modern age

we all knew how to appreciate ease

there were ballads all will manage

 

Innovative to a measure of genius

will you ever understand their verve

ability to play the powerful albatross

without ever spilling suggesting nerve.

 

We would wonder next because merit

evolves in ability to continue to produce

and did they yes with efficient writ

passages, human condition thought loose

 

Yet now today, worship the innovative

beyond comprehension, fab four live.