Ever the darkness, every night or
early morn, a moment for chance,
the time to begin.
Still, we wait.
Incessantly.
We do it again and again, enough
or a lot or as much as we can
if we care to admit it.
Why?
Can’t a shade of mystery simply
take hold, whether we like it
or not?
Must we always seek familiarity?
10/21/2024 j.g.l.
The Moon hangs low,
yet the Sun still rises.
Each day
we have another chance
to shine a little brighter.
Rise up.
Be radiant.
© 2019 j.g. lewis
Today might not be what it is
without yesterday being all
that it was.
In a succession of events,
unplanned or programmed,
rarely do we consider
what has happened,
as it happens.
Sometimes we speak less
about things that matter
as we think we have
more time, as such.
Oftentimes
we do not speak of
things we should
as they are happening,
in the time that remains.
In the time we are given,
the present persists.
10/15/2024 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.
yesterday
today
was
tomorrow
I had so much to do
things I had put off
consciously or
unconsciously it mattered not
I was determined to get them
Done
one (or all of them)
by
one
done today
when it was tomorrow
it seemed easier
it seemed manageable
it seemed as if there would
be time
when today
was tomorrow
yet as tomorrow came,
as it always does
as yesterday lost hold of
the hours and
its way
and tomorrow just happened
anyway
it seemed
as if
time had passed me by
as if a day;
today or any day
slipped off the calendar
falling like a rose petal or
disgraced politician
into the basket of days misspent
or wasted
days which promised more
but delivered less
tomorrows do that
they never quite live up to
today
and all too often
become a yesterday
© 2014 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.