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.
What we choose to carry
across the sand, across the street,
or through shadows that threaten or question,
will influence how we walk
across this planet.
Implications. Allegations.
Will you step meekly, leaving
a faint footprint, pace forcefully
forward, or drag your feet to leave a mark.
Could you be left behind,
a solemn slice of nostalgia?
Outdated. Obsolete.
How will the weight of a cruel world
affect you? Keeping up with
rapid technological advancement will silence you.
It never remains the same;
never will, nor will you.
Decisions. Revisions.
Sand will become stone, streets
will grow into neighbourhoods, and
skyscrapers will create doubt or a place to hide.
Will you take comfort in isolation
away from the sun?
Confusion. Evolution.
You will see your future more clearly
with your eyes no longer squinting.
Rest, as you can. Your mind is overflowing
Your body is tired. This pace
will leave you breathless.
Persistence. Resistance.
© 2018 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.