Days, weeks, then months
and years drift by.
Not always noticeable, or even
memorable, the time behind us
simply accumulates. All in all,
the sum of its parts leads to
a life well-lived, if you take
a moment to notice.
09/10/2024 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
It’s not about height
or breadth, or depth.
It is all about perspective.
What limits you?
How far can you see?
To what end do you
appreciate what is in front of you?
Looking back is hindsight
and you have already been there.
Change your point of view.
Look up.
Don’t overlook opportunities.
What are your limits?
09/09/2024 j.g.l.
within
Secrets are rarely as heavy as
the weight we assign to them.
The gravity of circumspect
plays out, time and again. It is
what we carry as we decide
what crosses, or is held within,
our moral divide.
Sit with it for a while, moved
only when memory comes into
play; last night, or the other, or
any other day.
09/05/2024 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.
cloud songs
Posted on April 1, 2021 by j.g.lewis
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No generalities.
We seek
a tangible measure
of anything specific
to know whom we are, even
where we have been.
Because
we want
some sort of control
over any aspect of our life that
becomes accessible to all.
Is nothing private?
We keep
thoughts to ourselves,
secrets if possible; because
we can,
if we can.
We need
to breath independently,
each mouthful of air.
Inhale.
Hold it,
own it,
as long as you can.
Exhale,
let it out.
Absolve yourself
of the guilt
of keeping things inside.
Try to break the cycle
again.
04/01/2021 j.g.l.
