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.
Month: February 2017
The absence of sound; silence
soothes and silence heals.
Without a sound you think, you
feel; a deeper thought, one without
interruption. Thoughts you own.
Thoughts of your own.
Early morning walk, the fresh-fallen
snow covers up all you know. The
city still sleeps, finding comfort in
the silence. You are awake.
It’s peaceful, each big fat snowflake
takes its time finding a way to the
ground. This is your time, a signal
to slow down and allow your self
a moment, or two, of repose.
Surely, soon, today will come alive
and you will be forced to deal with
all that clutters the mind. Until then,
enjoy this slice of time to get your
bearings straight, to prepare yourself
for the risks you will take and
mistakes you will make (we all do).
It’s all up to you.
Remain open to what comes your
way, find more time throughout the
day to listen to your self.
Let silence heal, let silence help.
j.g.l.
Memories matter.
cloud songs
If something becomes
stuck in your eye,
you don’t see or feel
the power like you did, or
like you had.
Look elsewhere.
Should this full moon
cease to shine,
light your own candle,
find your own time.
j.g.l.
It shall be poetry
that captures where
I am
and allows my mind
to go where
I need to be.
Away from false news,
false hope, and
questionable judgement,
I find solace from the
context of confusion
cluttering
the atmosphere and
taking away
all that is important.
j.g.l.
Even Today
We wait for something to happen,
someday.
We plan, unconsciously, of things
to come or things to see, perhaps
not even specifically, but eventually.
Someday.
Some day, some week, some time
in which we hope or speak, the
someday when it will be just as we
imagined. Or better.
Someday.
It’s not today, I don’t know why it
can’t be arranged, so we don’t try, but
someday
soon we know we will, and that
illusive day will be such a thrill.
We know it, so we wait for
someday.
Every day
is a potential someday.
Even today. Can’t today be the
someday
you choose to make it happen, to
take the ride, or is this another day
you will simply let it slide.
Someday
is certain, now and then. You know it
will come, but you don’t know when.
j.g.l.
