Remembrance.
As it is, not
as we wish it to be.
You have days
to think back on,
and you do…
05/25/2023 j.g.l.
always with the questions
Is what you do enough?
For who?
For you?
Self-doubt?
Self-love?
Self-centered?
Is it selfish to think mainly
of what I need to do for me,
myself, and I?
Why?
When will I find resolve to
my never-ending queries?
Will it be enough?
Do you still doubt?
Do you struggle with answers,
as much as the questions?
Can you decide?
Are you trying?
Is that enough?
05/23/2023 j.g.l.
cloud songs
Library of memories;
pages and paragraphs full of history
and biography, essay or adventure.
Which story should I tell?
Is it one you would well know or
a tale I still have no ending for?
05/16/2023 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.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Posted on April 4, 2022 by j.g.lewis
Leave a comment
Another season: it dawns on you
each spring. Early morning
thoughts are bewildering.
Each morning you wake, as you
have done so many times before.
A cumulative lifetime of
waking up once more. Mornings,
some anyway, you spring up from
your cozy bed, refreshed, anxious
to encounter plans you have made
for the day ahead.
Majority of days it is off to work;
‘got to make a living’, many times
it has been said, but what will you
make of this day? Of yourself?
What can be constructed from a
momentary lapse of reason, the
dreams ignored, pursuits or plans
forgotten in the morning haze?
What will you accomplish in this
one of many days? What can you
get done once you get going?
04/04/2022 j.g.l.
April is Poetry Month
