Qualifying questions, remedial response.
Knowledge of situations often haunt.
What we know or have been told.
We tell ourselves we just don’t know.
Answers formed by thoughts untold.
Rumour and misinformation often sold.
Conspiracy theories tend to rule the day.
Bare truth and logic will get in the way.
04/22/2024 j.g.l.
Current Thoughts
Open your mouth, let words
bypass lips. Converse consciously
to brethren or bystanders.
Reach out to
close friends gone amiss.
Be not afraid, not now, of
articulating current thoughts and
accomplishments of which
you are proud, and even your sins
(for we have all owned a few)
might seem far less tragic
from an altered point of view.
Give fresh voice
to insecurities and anxieties hidden
within your self, speak highly of
those dusty dreams
languishing on a shelf.
Past sullen moments cast a
lengthy shadow, short-term
expectations tend to dull down
long-term possibilities.
Talk freely around all you want,
or hope, or desire to be.
Each intention will resonate
with those who wholly believe.
Understanding takes effort.
© 2024 j.g. lewis
April 18th is Poem in Your Pocket Day
a day to celebrate poetry by selecting a poem,
carrying it in your pocket, and sharing with the
friends and strangers who cross your path.
Share a poem wherever the day takes you, as you
would share a smile, a gesture, or your kindness.
Sharing is caring.
April is Poetry Month
take a poem to lunch
Our paths shift, circumstance and
attitude shaping our trajectory.
The company we keep alters both
our outlook and destination.
We are where we are
mainly because of who we are
and whom we are with.
04/16/2024 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.
Today’s rain washed away most
of the evidence of winter.
The water has spilled over the river’s banks
but is receding.
The air is fragrant
with the change of season.
Maybe it is because the dust has settled for a bit
but I could smell spring as I walked the streets.
At one point, this afternoon, it was like nighttime
in the middle of the day,
the windshield wipers kept time
to the rhythm of life.
This evening, however, just after the sun had
disappeared altogether, low-lying clouds
hovered just above
and in patches.
Stars shone through the clouds
like freckles on a lover’s skin, peeking out of the
crisp sheets.
Spring brings optimism
and hope.
You hear people on the streets again,
they too are pleased.
Just wait for summer.
I can feel peace,
can you?
© 2006 j.g. lewis
Image: Wet Prairies
Artist: Steve Repa – 1977
Ten years ago, in a journal, I wrote this for my daughter. An early spring then,
as it is now. Seasons may change, but poetry remains, as does optimism and hope.
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.