What gets left behind
with our unmade minds
forever rushing?
What do we leave behind
if we did not take the
the time to notice?
What is no longer mine
because neither you nor I
could take our time?
12/02/2024 j.g.l.
look around
Be thankful
for what you have, for
what you have to let go of,
and for those who are still
with you. Gratitude comes
in many forms. Look around.
Be thankful.
j.g.l.
cloud songs
It is only silence and only
for now, a minute or three
but who is counting?
Enough, for now.
Slight Repose, a little grace,
enough until you have
found your place. Might be
morning, or the end of the day,
yet it is time to yourself anyway.
For now.
11/29/2024 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.
Whatever The Place
Posted on December 2, 2020 by j.g.lewis
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You are not alone.
Others, too, have walked this path.
Physically distanced,
yet right there. Or almost. Emotionally
where heartbreak meets uncertainty.
Who hasn’t walked this way?
If not the same direction
perhaps the same purpose.
Never-ending sidewalks
of this filthy society, whatever the place.
Each of us affected
by movement, passive motion or demand.
Broken strides, we continue to try.
Do you experience pain?
Panhandling our feelings,
we all beg for attention.
If not to be noticed,
if only as if to belong somewhere.
Every one of us has
lived through a discomfort. Emotions
will only allow a certain levity.
How can I know your story?
My route has been similar
if it has not been the same.
©2020 j.g. lewis
