Last night I listened to the winds howl in melody
seems they were speaking, warning of a parody.
So quickly our lives, my own, grooves self importance
wanting only to observe, less patience more chance.
I speak in my head a constant life of simple romance
that sort that would suggest our lives live in a trance.
The famous writers who could travel in love’s pain
a prowess with words, retelling always the reader’s gain.
I wondered how long it might be in this state I remain
whereby my actions would prevent me feeling the rain.
Where simply do we go when the winds to pull us under
An impossibility, our minds will not be want of wander.
Last night I listened to the winds howl their melody,
A certain peace is Her vibrant reminder the ready.
© Thom Amundsen 4/2020