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
There is that desire
a described inspiration
perhaps we cannot identify
we only believe she
he
a sweet moonlight,
or perhaps a simple gesture
a muse is born
we might go forward without knowledge,
yet lessons learned,
come later
when the least necessary affirmation
becomes our powerful
epiphany
perhaps a memory,
a fond recall of a pretty woman,
just the thought,
her moment when in that instance,
she smiled a thousand years,
and for a time she was your own gift.
For our gifts are that which we cannot endure,
yet we might for the lesson of humility
rely upon the muse.
We all have one, somewhere nearby, or elsewhere,
that copy, a shadow, a response we failed to hear
until we once encounter a moment of clarity
when the stars align, we decide to … understand.
rather than continuing the battle of individuality
we suddenly are together, without any demand.
That’s when our muse whomever, whatever, wherever
will smile in the background not because they put us
where we wanted to be, more simply,
our muse is there to watch with love, because their
whole wish is for our humanity,our selves, our …
When a muse becomes the focus of our writing,
our acting, our performing, our creative souls,
have an entirety of cathartic energy filled with love,
a karmic sojourn if you will that blending in unity,
allows our lives to flourish in the elegance of reality.
Music will light up the night
Visions in tear-drawn windows
Sweet sounds to remind
Time in essence
Do you ever recall exact meaning?
We met one summer
Taking classes or just noticing
A certain intrigue
Drew our lives together
We played with our own desires
Drawing nearer
Letting caution be our muse
~
I remember you
There was this gold string sash
You put it in my hands
Before the party
My teenage insecurities
Wouldn’t let me realize
The energy around that sash
Your fingertips in my hands
While wrapping string
Around my naiveté
I remember your smile
Eyes shining in the evening sky
Lips curled with a sweet
Clever knowing grin
A caution held in a sash
~
Years went by, and a visit
Drew us together again
My sister was always sharp
She knew long before I did
And we chuckled
That brief evening
When I kissed you …
I might almost recall the fabric
Your jean jacket
As my hands held your shoulders
And you leaned into me
We borrowed only for a moment
A neighbor’s wall outside a party
And chuckled away
Letting caution be our muse
~
The beauty of time
Two souls travel distance
And yet I came home again
Standing in a crowded room
Feeling ambiance and years
Moods that could channel souls
Quiet in my own mind I wondered
Leaned against the wall
Noticing strangers
When my eyes opened
You stood before me
I recognized your smile
Your eyes sparkled with
That knowing grin
Immediate conversations
Took us long into night
A romantic park bench
Moment in endless hours
There was only time
To grace one another’s past
And offer fresh retellings
Each word with allowance
Knowing caution was our muse
~
Our next reunion
A social media moment
When a text finds a friend
In the twilight
Welcoming coffee
And strong dialogue
We talked of family
Of love
Of life and sisters
Children and fortune
Certainly without the material wealth
But how the soul feels
Within those moments
Your heart, compassion
Beauty, grace, elegance
All of those words you deny
Were spoken in the sweet windows
Of your eyes
Laughing over ice cream
Caution is human nature’s muse
~
While the moon in night amber
Beckons our mind to figure out why
Know your eyes will give expression
In their reaching desire to recognize
How purpose drives our spirits
To define that mystique of passion
That romantic interlude
Between the real and imagined
When in a song we might recall
While suggesting otherwise
Our peace can be held in our hands
Knowing we may touch someone’s heart
(Eyes do, will, can, have touched our hearts)
Let time become our nostalgic sojourn
Well beyond the Grace of caution’s muse
Like a composer
The words are the keyboard
Fingertips draw out sounds
Searching for a release
Finding the right
Intonation
To suggest the feeling
The emotional drive
That gives strength to definition
~
I am seeking you tonight
In the twilight of a star fallen sky
Listening to a piano masterfully designed
To allow certain tones
To enter my blind
Driving my world through words
As quickly as they come to mind
I am careful to lay them out on paper
Hoping for a release
The tension inside
So direct, so biting
I may lay stunned
Feeling the earth against my skin
And wondering
Just how far, my thoughts need travel
To feel once again
~
I rode my bicycle up a long hill one hot afternoon
And each circular motion drew me further
Closer to your world
That was my goal
Anything else was simply an
Afterthought
The real journey
Was to transport my usual self
To your doorstep
And when I arrived
In the cool afternoon air
You offered me water
And my bicycle
Suddenly became centuries old
And the pasture golden with the summer’s wheat
Swaying gently in the breeze
Shadowed a brilliant sky
Of autumn’s challenge
Suggesting …
~
Our moon in that later night sky
May be as real today in yesterday’s eye
Muse nearby travel with me for I am
Seeking a splendor suggests only why
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