sunlight navigates its way
between
what was and what
is still to come
friday
not just any day
you find the freedom
to notice
transformation happening
as it should
look up
will you see what you should
or observe
all you have neglected
04/26/2024 j.g.l.
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
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.
The hours have changed at my regular Starbucks.
This morning, it took me by surprise.
I am, if nothing else, a creature of habit.
My mornings don’t really begin until I’ve got a hot cup of deep, dark roast in my hand. As much as it is a pleasure, it is a necessity.
I used to take my coffee and plop myself down at a coffee shop table with my laptop or journal, and then get on with all I had to do. Slowly, with each sip, I’d get into the daily groove.
That changed, six months ago, when the seating inside the coffee shop was closed off because of COVID-19.
But I adjusted. I’d get my takeaway coffee and set out on a walk through this city’s downtown. Over the months, the route changed and became longer and longer, but the coffee cup was my constant companion. Even then, I may have stumbled for a couple of blocks until the caffeine seeped into my veins.
My routine will now begin a half an hour later.
I will adjust.
I suppose that’s what this year has been about: adjustment.
This coronavirus has wreaked havoc on our everyday lives. The way we work, the way we play, and the comings and goings of our every day have all been an adjustment.
We will continue to adjust, just as we will slowly get used to the darker (and chillier) mornings.
We adjust our lives, where we can and how we can, to the change. We will continue to wonder when, or if, anything will ever get back to normal.
I suppose change is our new normal.
I will adjust.
As long as I’ve got my coffee, the days, somehow, seem easier.
09/14/2020 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.