If When We Cry

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

Quiet Love

Words will only restrain

such is beauty in motion.

An actual acknowledgment

within a silent serenade.

For this is love

when planning matter not.

For love is

somehow a quizzical reminder.

Our lives not bound by preface

if we live in simple harmony.

Love is

a quiet refuge stills the shadows.


©️ Thom Amundsen 1/2021

In My Mind

Starts in the morning sunlight

when awoken by the light of day.

Makes one wonder a clarity

though having lives found far away

provides an amorous vulnerability

would that eyes clearly dream a night.

When once there was memory found

now shall be the reality drawn as one

in arms where eyes can feel such peace

such are romantic airs find release.

Without sweet nostalgic honesty won

how might our lives ever find ground.

Tonight she does in soft memory remind,

silence a soulful nature, in love is kind.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

These Are Our Days

We know them

no filter moments

side swept rains tease snow

feel moisture on naked socks

walking the dog

a midnight rendezvous

perhaps routine to some

yet

tonight, today, last year

that calendar date

might, may, will, has, did,

does always, wants forever a return.

Remember once quiet

impassioned plea.

I will always be here, nearby

holding your hand, crossing paths,

nostalgic eyes.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

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 Peace in Our Lives

We do share an anxiety

Achy legs

Grab a thermometer

Now a strange earache out of

Nowhere really normal anywhere.

We live in high risk

Hyperventilating our every move.

And then we try to calm

Try to recall the common cold …

Well not as much tonight as I have let

This certain earache

Rule my state of mind.

Though a sunny day

Awaits tired eyes.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

Choices

Beautiful morning in pastel skies

lain in silent repose, autumn respite

breathes crisp is the air. Slow emergent eyes

would life alone always feel sweet regret.

How then we nourish a waking desire

the soul in our heart alive less restrain,

for there always this confusion aspire

dreams ahead so absolute quell the rain.

Let swift his own methodic … a Chopin

serenade … to reach high in the heavens.

Varied in nature our eyes could open

while an offering melt away burdens.

Oh now this moment our passion release.

For there is the will of God grant our peace.


©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2020

Slow Walk, Winter Night

For it was a chilly moment,

when while the sun began to set

I looked inside her eyes,

only to realize

hers would no longer shine

instead a sort of quiet resign.

~

Oh, we did smile many years ago,

and yet still

there seems this need of mine,

this tortured self fulfilling misery,

I must feel capable,

have some solace in knowing

I am not the loathsome man

I feel my internal self can be.

~

A slow walk on a wintry night,

to evaluate,

find my soul inside the crisp clear sky,

where dreams would happen

if only I might

know again the beauty of a starlit moment

holding fortune

holding fortune

in certain tender hands

a quiet peace of mind.


© Thom Amundsen 11/2020