Tag: thoughts

A Dwelling Time

If wait,

a silent venture

no one else would matter

this state of mind.

Walk slow in the forest

feel the pristine nature

of natural life,

ours to feel fascination.

How will a

human being

fit into this scheme

wanting peace of mind.

WE take ourselves

inside deep caverns

while offering opinion

when lost inside.

Finding balance

clearly an aspiration

when found

offers a solace.

These are concrete steps

whose weather worn


holds strong a foundation.

For when we choose

live our lives

offer resolution

could our time resound.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

If, Again


once we

were partners

though shadowed

intimate decisions

drove us apart, our lives

seemingly drawn

in more necessary direction,

would it be possible

to find purpose

in knowing …




the world

were able to

walk in the shoes

of those they despise

would it be possible then

for each of our lives

to become valid

to such a


we might understand





the world

were a perfect sphere

and all the polar opposites

began to better listen and hear

each other rather than negate

their contributions,

could we maybe





If when

the sun were to set

we might all still look inside

each other’s lives could

we finally recognize

the similariites

and love



If … again

We Spoke of Clouds

Ours were lofty plans

no one ever understood

that really was the plan


soft sunsets in woods

we lay in one another’s arms

playing with our moods


looking in her eyes

seeing clouds in satin skies

long before any lies


nature left us bare

with little consequence – love

dance within my dare


as a child winter

would freeze – bone chilling icy

clouds would love deter


In a still moment

I can still hear her laughter

winter’s freeze lament


starry starry eyes

yours would I remember when

I glance toward skies

Whisper Wild Words

When everything seems to wane

we tend to

circle our wagons

we tend to

issues that matter

we tend to

run with the masses

whenever it seems our lives matter.


What happens while we forget,

how many miles

of open ground do we cover

how many miles

of indecision do we wander

how many miles

of afterthought do we compile

whenever it seems our lives matter.


I lost a friend the other day,

she seemed to be tired,

of trying to meet the needs of a world,

she seemed to be tired

of all the bullshit that crossed her desk,

she seemed to be tired

of trying to meet the needs of the man

whenever it seems our lives matter,


Whenever it seems our lives matter

the world around us seems to bother.

Thin Lined Walls

those opportunities

stealing away time


an asked for world



I walked further inside a fantasy,

I usually steer clear of grasping its entirety.

But I just wanted to,

I threw caution a curve ball,

stranded my indecision

while all around me,

the sun continued to rise,

high winds set the tone for

any afternoon, every evening, the next morning.


Walking alone again,

after years of reparation,

the sort of time driven self-actualization

we all seem to thrive upon,

yet so rare is our epiphany.


He said he had one standing in front of the window,

in the lounge where pain,

every sort of misery,

played out each soul, each memory,

each death.

For that is the true circle of life

we try to live by our standard,

and yet,

one afternoon there we are looking at a streaking sky,

wishful of every cloud, paint drawn autumn leaf,

each indication of a better life,

will set the tone for the next day.


Tomorrow is the first time I get to speak freely

about what happened already,

only because, there are allowances for

the human condition,

that mechanical ticking bomb

awaits the next adventure.


When we sometime try to bury our ills,

to convey a deeper meaning inside shallow pools,

we sadly forget to recognize

the shimmer,

the grace of a natural reflection,

the beauty that thin lined walls,

offer the free mind,

rather than a poured concrete statue

of the divine redemption.


We cannot surely argue with time.

Civilized Agony

Tears are real,

though hidden,


we really don’t reveal

fires inside,

we can’t allow others

inanimate reasons

to hold court

in the presence

of others.

When alone,

that ability

to cry out loud

delights the mind,

while sitting alone

without audience

tears will flow free

and yet if we reveal

a sob, a gasp, an awkward

shift in posture,

if we,

allowances are made,

we become free,

we fly inside a dream,

a myriad of emotion

follows …

in there a world

far beyond

a typical day,

a routine need,

a wonderful sunrise,

becomes ironic,

we believe our soul

cleansed again.

Walking Path

We walk rather than run

to remain calm, save energy,

to let those outside our world

recognize our own responsibility

to shadow peace.

Yet when on occasion

I see a path ahead,

I’d like to run as fast,

perhaps like the gazelle

who runs away looking

afraid of his own shadow,

only likely afraid of me.

I wonder if I went for it,

a full out sprint to reach

the other end of the path,

how excited would I be,

to realize when breathless

in a gradual pause,

I’m not quite ready at all,

to reach that other end.

Stand Firm; Lessons Learned

We are an entitled society

yes we are,

we’ve been told,


been forced to accept

our need for …

validation and anyone gets in my way

I will mow you down in a heartbeat

and bury your soul in the ashes.

Oh, did I say that

again there is a familiar ring,

a calling, a howling,

a fixture of resentment

borne out of the reams

of sympathetic scrutiny …

or is this a hypocrisy that no matter

how we try to be good to one another,

someone will slam your face without fail

Ah springtime is ahead,

the temperatures glean

our need for warmth

for delightful walks,

and summer bike rides

all shared with each other …

My neighbor bought a new bicycle,

come on dad, I need an upgrade,

can it happen today? What the fu …

Where did we find ourselves accepting a society

that rather than earn allows a continuum’s whine.

Part of You

I am a part of you, if you let me,

I exist because of you, because you let me,

and now it is time to say good-bye

to old ideas,

to former complements,

to suggest we move on and

better understand,

our lives are meant for growing.


When I feel like I do

I sometimes wonder about you

whether you might know the same

if the fleeting moments

still make sense

as that autumn day

when we really didn’t know,

but back when no one really cared.


Now in the twilight

a wide array of life above me

sparkling like layers of brushstrokes

holding court like a canvas

placed in the center room

for everyone’s eyes everywhere

to help recognize we’re not alone,

yet, we really are alone.


So I fill the time with nostalgia,

when I think about you,

and how you might know me today,

I can’t be proud,

I’ve never know how to allow myself

to feel really proud.

Instead, I keep carrying my satchel

the one that holds my dreams,

I can’t afford to spill them

more than I already have …

They remain a part of you.

Nightly Reverence – A Sonnet

© Dani Stites
© Dani Stites

When while a day goes quietly the nigh

soft hearts may ponder a delicate noon-

time pleasure. That is the moment inside

a dream slow to respond, yet urgency

calls upon a name to satisfy sweet

melody, a caress, play, we digress.

For when might anyone ask forgiveness

upon simple words, golden, a sparkle

of intent defines passing encounters.

Each streaming ray of hope dances our brows

well toward jest’s enigmatic interlude.

-patience beckons a rare emotion served-

When then we bask in the moonlight of love

we know surely, our lives are drawn above.