Tag: winter

Snowfall

I sat at my window

watching the snow this morning.

It reminded me of

days of my childhood.

I could see the snow falling everywhere

covering trees, benches,

and walkways.

I was reminded of

my childhood

sitting at our picture window,

watching cars slipping up and down

that little hill nearby.

The window is where my dad

would paint a Christmas blessing

in the coming weeks.

That would make it harder

to look out the window.

Maybe it was his way

of having us focus

on what’s inside our home

rather than always searching.

I watched the snowfall today

excited about the winter ahead,

change of seasons,

the definition of

spirit, survival, and the goodness

of a snow in November.

The Snowfall

Watch the seasons turn upon us quiet

soft shadows, sensual sweet departures.

We now move conscious toward new adventures

cast upon snowy depths in life silent.

~

Will we reflect upon nature’s future

while slow we unveil our new horizons?

Will painful reminder offer options

a sighing heart and balance would assure?

~

Reminders of last manifestations

echo in our soul while we try enhance

everything we believe might fall to chance

in this wintry landscape are found reasons.

~

A change of season might ask we relent

we toss the past and embrace this advent.

Autumn Winds

Sunlight shadows peek within autumn sky

A sign of change without a question why

Today less likely life will go awry

One moment in the clouds certainly cry

While lost inside the blues we want to try

Oh feel the cooling season breathe sweet sigh

Leaves are cast about then pausing as wise

The beauty of a day inside our eyes

We listen to the winds whistle mild cries

We listen to the wind it peaks and dies

Winter just ahead sounds a silent guise

Would that we shelter our lives in disguise

She called them changing winds in retrospect

Quiet in soft wraps we love and respect.

Morning Sunlight

If we allow ourselves

a moment to engage

in the beauty of morning,

sunlight can radiate

our mind and body.

The leaves are turning

watching the autumn

descend upon our

summer dreams.

We will cycle

toward the arctic,

winter winds.

Yet, stand in the sunlight

for a moment, we might.

Waiting

Sky fleeting

opens eyes to sweep

tilling fields of the planting season.

The spring might tease the mind.

Waiting

watching the snows unwind.

Bicycles wish melt rubber on the asphalt,

smells of pollen, fresh release

puddles and rain tapped sills

the songs return,

we advocate

a challenging season.

Waiting,

watching tree limbs come to life again

buds waiting for a mist, a shower,

the nitrogen of a lightning storm,

long hard winter behind.

Imagine a hot horizon ahead

where skin will choose a bronze

beyond the pale shadows of a chilly memory.

Waiting

while we wander in grand scheme our mind.


© Thom Amundsen 3/2022

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

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

Twilight Conscience

Swift breeze is nonchalant to a unique settings.

Silent hour forever in the mind of an observer,

a starry horizon will stretch a furthest minute

to give benefit to psychic appraisal of reason.

 

Stand awake in time a twilight enhanced howl

whereby our lives will in natural light return.

For the moment we might meditate the night

with sudden revelation – planetary alignment.

 

I would if may suggest my life in the balance

would hold truth grateful such wires insomnia

extends my intellectual prowess that imagines

in a delusion. A realist, perhaps only questions.

 

In the quiet of my home, would change a season

As the wind screams my name in idyllic reason


© Thom Amundsen 2019

A Silent Snow

It’s okay, he said.

The snow began to fall,

and he wondered about the natural course of things.

While tucked away in the corner,

reflections of life

carried on,

a conversation between two lovers,

innocent to the eyes around,

simply enthralled

she said with a smile,

and he

sort of moved in.

 

They hadn’t really experienced life yet,

thought the onlooker,

his coffee now calling

a lovely segue into creating a moment

for himself.

 

Little boy walks right up to his knee

stares with doe eyes,

and the writer has to

make a choice,

usher him away or smile,

and a voice beckons and the little boy

retreats to dad,

letting peace again consume

the quiet man behind the eyes,

waiting for the storm,

waiting to watch the snow fall,

like a memory may not remind

the immediacy of Winter

a nearing charm.

 

In the middle of the night

he might wake to find

his heart beating

at a rapid rate,

a telling reminder of another time,

when snow fell from branches

like angelic boughs,

a plop to the sunlit morning,

the cars drifting along the avenue,

in some remarkable ceremony,

his time to say good-by,

his time to wonder why.

 

Sitting now, the snow has begun to fall,

so many moments like tonight … a gentle breeze.

Autumn Sunrise

Picture silent beauty of the fallen

cascades over night in morning’s fresh dew

Would we lives would suspend among such few

swept in a seasonal breeze unspoken

 

While lives do merit certain ambience

having understood time in element

sweet farewell of arid temperament

with knowledge shelter a vortex of chance

 

In morning humanity know each day

means a spiritual guide wills a solace

swift is the timing of fortunate Grace

will soon a blossoming might lead our way

 

Demands seek urgency’s mortality

Cycle of life bestow such is beauty