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.
I went out last night to look up at the full moon, but instead spent my time looking for it.
The Strawberry Moon was to be a Super Moon, appearing brighter and closer than normal. The Strawberry Moon sort of ushers in summer, and the weather last night was warm enough to signal that it might be true.
I took the elevator up to the rooftop of our building with the intention of sitting and staring for a while.
Stillness, under the full moon, was not to be.
The moon was not visible to me.
Toronto’s growth continues upwards. Cranes and condominiums are everywhere, all the time. I notice this daily. Finding a patch of sunlight in downtown Toronto is becoming more difficult as the buildings get taller and the shadows grow longer.
I had not noticed, or paid attention to, how the views had changed at night, until last night.
The spot I intended on spending time in the moonlight — the exact spot where I stood and photographed the September 2015 lunar eclipse in all its glory — would not serve me well.
My view of the moon has been blocked. Residents of buildings that have been built over the past five years can now see the sights while I can no longer can.
Not from here.
I thought further through the night, the type of thinking a full moon can force you to do, and I began to thinking about where I am and questioning what I was doing here.
I long to sit under the big sky and watch the moon, unobstructed, on a hot summer night.
Maybe it is time I should become more mindful about doing that.
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.