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.
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.
When you are not ready to say
all you need to say, you remain
unable to feel all you are
meant to feel.
Joy, relief, compassion,
beliefs, unobtainable all in the
truest sense. Your solitude, like
a sin, stays locked inside.
Unbidden, personal inquisition
only you can reply to, abiding
precious time.
09/03/2024 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.
Interrupted evolution. Restructured
constitution blindly leading us through
these dense desperate days. Last gasp
effort before come what may.
Unknowingly, in this life, at this time,
we carelessly lend our thoughts to
emerging issues of chaotic unrest,
entirely unimaginable consequences
and derivative theories based on the
unaccountable actions of others;
ignorant or otherwise.
Disrespectful disruption in our once-
steadfast direction detracts from the
soul focus, purpose and strength,
taking us out of our personal space,
all too often, contributing yet another
layer of dust or deceit to these
ceremoniously complicated lives
we have been striving to lead.
In unprecedented ways, we can barely
attempt to wipe away persistent residue
of weeks and years of neglect, trying to
remain accountable first and foremost
to ourselves. Aren’t we all
in this together? Expressed empathy
contradicts our haphazard humanity.
How on earth can we be expected
to clean up societal problems if we all
have our own housekeeping to do?
At this time, in this life, couldn’t we
all use a little more help?
04/16/2021 j.g.l.
April is Poetry Month
all poetry all the time
right here
poetry every day
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.