What Crosses My Mind

  • 3 AM

    lights low, what’s happening in here no one might ever know. The cast of a dozen stories one day to the next, perhaps a romance again. Seems easy to dream when the lover is alone hopeful she might understand. Its 3 am blues are alive waiting alone to feel some fatigue beyond the daily drain.…

  • 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

  • There Are These Days

    A couple of weeks ago my world went dark. I made horrific plans, mapped out the day, my valuables, important tokens of my life. I say this because it does happen to people, and now I feel a better grasp and that is more valuable than any guilt or shame over previous moments in my…

  • The Mechanics of Time

    A manner of words will carry weight for the listener far more likely than that speaker for whom the end never arrives.   There is a wisdom in the quiet – when will we ever understand difficulty is far beyond a matter of chosen explanation.   Might we sacrifice peace of mind too often rather…

  • A Week Later

    I wonder about perception, how well it matches up inside, the image we carry of ourselves, the identity screaming always for balance against the odds, despite our own misgivings.   Last week I was high, a natural phenomena that took me places, I didn’t have to anticipate, just lived inside this possibility.   This morning…

  • Finding One Door

    This matter of doors, talked about in quiet rooms, where two people, maybe four, three could openly speak closing doors, reasons why, open doors, easily cry for there is some certain avenue allows us all to find our way, if we choose to be the person we might want to speak someday.   I remember…

  • Wanting Relief

    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…

  • When Wonder Waits

    Listen to the mind, the travels we take, so many wishes turned …

  • The Words That Speak

    I read a poem today, talked about saving a life, that words could in such a remarkable way, cause someone to rethink their moment, that impulse, the frightened reality the edge.   I wondered about the beauty of a word   We might easily write about death, oh the beauty of their lives, the regret…

  • Wonder About Wander

    I wonder, a wander, I wander about in wonder, the formula of finding purpose, while walking into forever.   I wander, a wonder, I wonder about in wander, the essence of a philosophy, while settling inside a routine.   I wonder about why, what is it, causes me to wander, rather than letting my soul…