Begin the day believing
something wonderful will
happen. Not just any day,
but today. It could.
Think of not what could
go wrong, but what will
go remarkably right.
You’ve got all day, what
will happen? What do
you want to happen?
Make it happen.
10/02/2023 j.g.l.
Do you do what gets done
out of obligation or
out of joy?
Do you care?
Where do
I start?
So much to do
every day. So little
gets done.
I know.
Do you judge a day
based on how much
was accomplished?
Do you?
Do you
end your day regretting
what was not completed,
or
do you end the day
looking forward to
tomorrow?
Where do
I begin?
© 2020 j.g. lewis
There are days where your vision is not clear, when you find it difficult to look past what is before you to see your true intentions.
You know what you need to do but lately, day after day, you don’t get it done.
You can’t see where you are headed, but know you will get there. That’s how strong your true vision is, or how strong it needs to be.
Look past the barriers.
Nothing can stop you once you stop stopping yourself.
09/29/2023 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.
by Adela Wilcox
Sometimes there are no words. Nothing comes out right, because we don’t know how to package it.
It’s okay.
The package doesn’t have to be perfect. Whatever the package can’t hold is of no use to you anyway. Anything so brittle that can’t be held by the strength of tears isn’t worthy of the love that formed them.
Sometimes there are no words. We don’t know how to express that which we haven’t connected to within ourselves.
It’s okay.
We find connection in service to each other, and empathy follows. The fragility of the human heart will forge connections which the mind cannot perceive.
Sometimes there are no words. The acts of others seem unfathomable, unconscionable. Inhuman.
It’s okay.
Solidarity arises from the best of our common soul, giving us a common goal, and a common purpose.
Sometimes there are no words. Loss brings us to our knees, leaves us speechless, and humble.
It’s okay.
In time we rebuild. In time we open our hearts again. And in time, we find those words which were once so elusive, and speak them to ourselves when no one else can speak them to us.
©2018 H. Adela Wilcox
Adela Wilcox lives in the beautiful Sierra Nevada Foothills of California. A writer, broadcaster, activist, musician, and gardener, Adela has published two volumes of poetry: Chrysalis Whispers (2010) and Phoenix Landed (2017).
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.