Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .

Mondays are not young Fridays

Where you are is not where you will always be, physically, spiritually, emotionally and fundamentally.
Even your location will change, even if you stay in the same place (few of us do). Forward is not always a destination or direction, but rather a state of being.
Where will you go today?

02/06/2023                                                                          j.g.l.

future progress

It is often history that clouds our judgment, and even prevents us from seeing the true and right path we must take going forward.

   The steps we have already made, even those unplanned, play a meaningful role in the direction we have chosen. But, they do not always have to chart the course of future progress.

   Progress, yes, it is what we must do, even unknowingly.

 

02/05/2023                                                                                  j.g.l.

 

 

Important

The coldest morning of the winter
reminds you what is truly important:
– a warm parka
– garbage mitts
– a positive attitude
– good coffee

Spring is coming.
So is the weekend.

02/03/2023                                                                                      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.

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Words For A Father

Posted on June 17, 2015 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

IMG_8442

Always words I wanted to say.
Even now, they can’t stain the page.
Whys and whens, I might never know
if I don’t say,
if I couldn’t find the words, or some time,
to ask my father.

Forever a distance I could never cross.
More than a few steps, questions lost,
ifs, ands, or buts, I dared not to mention.
How could I, then?
Or now? If I didn’t find the time, or the words
for my father.

There have always been years, months and days
I never found the time, or the way.
The fault is mine, tongue-tied.
Can I speak, now?
Or ever? Time is a barrier to words
with my father.

A love held back, not purposely so.
It’s my fault, I know it’s there, I’ve felt it grow,
still I can’t, so it seems, make myself known.
How can I, now?
How would he know? Does he? Do I
know my father?

There is a will to utter sentences in my head,
to say what needs to be told, has to said.
I’d like to think he realizes what holds me back.
I understand him less,
than he knows me. How can he?
He is my father.

I was supposed to ask, supposed to say,
but never did. Was it meant to stay that way?
The clock has expired, true nature of time.
Words unspoken.
Unrealized. Thoughts remain mine.
Not my father’s.

Did he know why I needed my time?
Questions then would always remind.
Maybe he thought it best I find the answers
on my own.
It’s probably right, words meant to remain
with my father.

 

Words and thoughts change over time, even those you feel you cannot express. The bulk of this poem was written in late 2012. The last two stanzas were just added. The words were never spoken, yet the poem is complete. Or maybe it just now provides closure? Father’s Day is about remembering, and I do. And I am. Peace and love Dad.

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