Unready to face the day.
Wet this morning, the sense of grey
overwhelms my gentle spirit.
Flurries likely, still to come,
I feel the isolation closing in.
Am I the only one to be dissuaded
by weather’s twist of fate?
Forecasts of better days ahead,
but I will have to wait.
Just like yesterday
and look at it now.
04/04/2024 j.g.l.
Am I escaping responsibilities
following this call, a truancy from
what has been expected of me?
A goal few can see, patterns
I find uncomfortably resting
within the confines of my mind.
Words arrive, from time to time,
is it without thought
or total recall?
Most days I simply cannot
keep up with it all. Progress
few and far between, somewhat
disparagingly, nevertheless I try
to sort out what I mean.
Who is to say, or know, a
satisfaction with so little to show.
Pencils mark the days, my path
and my page, or is it just
my imagination running away.
04/01/2024 j.g.l.
April is Poetry Month
there is meaning
traditions
family customs
recipes passed on
one generation to the next
memories
gifts from the past
to be shared
in the present
03/29/2024 j.g.l.
Kismet, naturally or unexpectedly,
holds sway on this or any other day.
If we choose to notice.
If we permit ourselves to linger
a moment or three in a transitive state
between elements of darkness and bright,
morning quells emotions and
disruptive thoughts we once embraced.
03/26/2024 j.g.l.
Dented, bruised, scuffed up and circumstantial, the imperfections are obvious.
It goes past superficial.
Seeking more than a cover-up, healing is necessary.
Hope is less than present but needed, so I try to do what I need to do. Each attempt to repair the damage that is done — the day-in-day out flaws that have become ingrained in my psyche — is another step.
It takes effort. It takes encouragement, and it takes understanding even if I can’t completely comprehend the history that led up to the marks on the façade.
I need to do the work.
At times trying is the best I can do when I know I want to do better.
03/25/2024 j.g.l.