Morning observations rarely register
as we wake and wander our way
through infant hours.
It takes a moment for
the mind to come alive while
the gravity of the day settles in.
We fail to notice little things,
considerably more substantial days ago,
perhaps once meaningful or spiritual,
now displaced as the second hand
of the wristwatch sweeps onward.
Afford yourself opportunity
to be distracted by butterflies, soon
a scent of lilacs, freesia, even the taste of
spring rain or requisite morning coffee.
In days so rent with common
occurrences, look beyond
what is there.
05/02/2024 j.g.l.
cloud songs
Mondays are just young fridays
This search for wholeness, an
unforgiving quest to find a
natural state in a world of
compromise, deceit, and fate.
My self, my view, my impulse
or intention too far beyond
what I am or have now.
Deep thoughts, a deeper longing
for an uncomfortable truth
mainly comprised of falsehoods.
What is behind this fragile shell?
What has it done to protect me?
04/29/2024 j.g.l.
by any other name
More obvious than DNA, presence
or personality: identity. Individually,
names are given out by someone else,
by family or memory. Titles awarded
before character is developed,
without our knowledge.
A voice we live with. Should you
call out, what will you hear? A name:
in the end, all we are left with. Goodbye.
What you remember and often forget.
Introduction requires random thought
of specific examples.
Fingerprint fact and interpretation, a
name, birth date, statistics, history always
living proof of every step taken, up until
now. Evidence you are all you believe in,
selfish presentation of self-image, under
circumstances that change along with us.
Do you represent what others might think?
How well do they know you? Would you
be any different under any other name?
Will that person remain the same as you
if it were true? Hello. Ask yourself.
It is a hard title to live up to.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
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.
Amen
I will call it a prayer, for lack of
a better word. It will hold more hope
than a wish; more reality than a dream.
It shall be spiritual, yes, but
not religious, certainly not
with a capital R. That kind of thing
may have its place, but not here.
Not now. Religion does not
allow for differences, as I see it, and
neither do they. Most would prefer
to have everything go their way.
My prayer, as I will call it, is one
for respect and appreciation
of our differences.
Not one of us is the same and none
of us are to blame. It is as it is, but
need not be what it was. In my prayer,
and it should not seem like a dream,
our differences would not divide us,
but make us stronger as we allow
an increased capacity of forgiveness
in thought and in action.
Acceptance comes from
surrounding ourselves with those who
may chose an unfamiliar destination,
wear a different colour of skin, or
identify by another sexual orientation
than the one we have known.
My prayer, and my hope, is one where
we will believe in others
as much as ourselves.
This is the prayer that keeps me giving
and breathing, this is a dream
that keeps me hoping and believing.
Amen
04/19/2019 j.g.l.
APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
amen
