What gets left behind
with our unmade minds
forever rushing?
What do we leave behind
if we did not take the
the time to notice?
What is no longer mine
because neither you nor I
could take our time?
12/02/2024 j.g.l.
look around
Be thankful
for what you have, for
what you have to let go of,
and for those who are still
with you. Gratitude comes
in many forms. Look around.
Be thankful.
j.g.l.
cloud songs
It is only silence and only
for now, a minute or three
but who is counting?
Enough, for now.
Slight Repose, a little grace,
enough until you have
found your place. Might be
morning, or the end of the day,
yet it is time to yourself anyway.
For now.
11/29/2024 j.g.l.
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
April is Poetry Month
Posted on April 14, 2015 by j.g.lewis
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Roots Run Deep
Months now standing still, a temporary rest
for snow, frost, or the occasional bird.
Whistling winter’s woes, lifeless really,
actually dormant. Nothing.
Days stripped bare of your
colour and kindness.
Mainly shadows against temporal skies,
merely an echo of what you have been
and can be. Roots run deep, permanently
planted in our lives, having grown with us.
Three seasons remind us daily
of purpose and perseverance.
A range of tones, stories untold, and
breathing life in all we are.
The fourth season you stand.
An example to us all, sustained growth.
Each year another ring,
shelter from sun or rain.
Venerable, offering only your truth,
asking simply for patience. You
soak up our emissions, recycle our sins
and then stand. Stoic. Steadfast.
We wait. Late now, or later than usual,
we’ve grown restless.
Now we need you more than ever
to show our lives go on. A complete cycle,
buds, blossoms, full expression. Bring on
your colour, spread out your shade.
Contribute, again,
to meaningful days.
