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.
regret
Posted on November 27, 2024 by j.g.lewis
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Saturated in juvenile jealousies, raw emotions,
catastrophes, ever the mind considers shards
of a certain past.
Memories, like mistakes, cannot be avoided.
Not unlike prerogative, our tarnished views
contained within cognitive reality, blindside
everyday moments.
What were you thinking, at the time. Or now?
Held hostage, even today, by unearned feelings.
We deal with what we have done or what we
did not. Then. Or ever.
Regret has a way of overtaking the mind.
Clouded dreams, dogma, brittle curiosities,
conspiracy theories you only slightly believe,
forever captured.
What matters is how you accept the past.
© 2024 j.g. lewis
