We tire of unpredictable weather, the damp morning chill, wet socks and lost mittens. Winter keeps reminding it is not through with us.
We have suffered long enough.
The streets are tired and dirty and the time change only makes things darker in the morning.
We need a brighter view.
We need, now, the renewal that comes with spring.
03/20/2023 j.g.l.
Progress comes less from planning than participation.
Dreams and wishes require action and attention.
Start moving.
03/19/2023 j.g.l.
If we wait too long
for the stars to align, for
some kind of hope, or
some kind of sign,
if we let our lives hang on
still-bated breath, we will
forever wonder
what is still to come
or what we have left. If we
don’t own the moments,
or make them our own,
will we ever feel like
we’ve made our way home?
If we can’t be honest
with others, and especially
our selves,
can we ever explain why
or how
we once felt?
If we wait too long, it
may never arrive.
Stop waiting,
start doing,
start feeling alive.
© 2016 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.
Even my name will carry forward
to years I will not touch. This certainty remains
as truthful as it is obvious. We exist
in this fractured reality.
We all will die.
Admit that and you will move
more freely in this world.
Journey or adventure.
Most of us, week to week, are not aware
of a destination or even our path.
This has been my familiarity.
No other person’s experience can be
compared to your own experience.
We know various versions of the truth.
Time is tactile.
My hand will cup a breast only while my lips
have a taste to be quenched by lust,
or temptation.
Others will touch, or wish not to be touched.
Morals coat any decision made.
Experience tells us so.
Any human connection is hard; even harder
is loss of connection. Emotions are a commodity
shared with few, expressed by even less of us.
Trust.
The mind is never vacant, but a room muddled
by darkness. This space hosts a scent
I will remember after I
am left for dead.
We will all die; most of us alone.
Admit that, and you will move
more freely through this life.
© 2019 j.g. lewis
