What gets left behind
with our unmade minds
forever rushing?
What do we leave behind
if we did not take the
the time to notice?
What is no longer mine
because neither you nor I
could take our time?
12/02/2024 j.g.l.
look around
Be thankful
for what you have, for
what you have to let go of,
and for those who are still
with you. Gratitude comes
in many forms. Look around.
Be thankful.
j.g.l.
cloud songs
It is only silence and only
for now, a minute or three
but who is counting?
Enough, for now.
Slight Repose, a little grace,
enough until you have
found your place. Might be
morning, or the end of the day,
yet it is time to yourself anyway.
For now.
11/29/2024 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.
Mondays are just young Fridays
Posted on May 23, 2022 by j.g.lewis
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The cool morning drizzle of yesterday’s rain upset many of my plans all over again.
It has been certain uncertainty day by day; recent days have been unpredictable. Seems the only thing accurate about the weather app on my mobile device is the date.
All I can do is live with it.
Intentions curtailed or plans derailed, I must use my mind to occupy time. There’s always something to do, especially on a holiday Monday.
Today is already brighter than anticipated, so I’m off to a good start.
I hope to make the best of the day.
I hope you do as well.
Think of the possibilities.
05/23/2022 j.g.l.
