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.
In the bigger picture there is love.
In this life there is evil, hatred, and death.
Even greater misfortunes compound and
threaten our existence. Inconceivably so.
Wars rage against humanity, our prayers
for peace continually ignored.
I cannot understand what I can do.
Unfortunate we can’t feel it all, or feel at all,
through the depths of desolation and abomination
we read about or view on technicolor screens
within our comfortable existence on
this side of the planet.
This uncomfortable world.
I feel hopeless when I want to feel love.
Hatred has spread like ash across the globe with
a greater vengeance than the fires that consumed us
throughout the year. Fingertips trace our hopes,
deftly scratching the surface, a dignified definition
we can only dream on. The climate has changed
geopolitically and environmentally.
I can’t understand the cause.
I cannot comprehend the convictions.
Humankind needs to scratch deeper; we need to feel.
We cannot accept that which we do not understand.
I can only want love, even more than peace.
I hear the cries, even from a distance.
Still, we watch. And still we wait, understandably so.
© 2023 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.