It is only after the day, after
the rain, after the pain,
that we learn.
We only learn
after we listen. We only learn
after we have listened about
truth and injustice.
We only learn
after you believe it happened.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
a daily breath
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cloud songs
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subtle details
It is just a moment.
It’s one of the many moments you will experience throughout the day, if you take the time to notice.
We move too fast, too often, in our daily life. The places we must go and tasks we must perform — or obligations we are committed to — tend to overwhelm us.
We are ever-conscious of our required duties, but less observant of life as it passes by.
Take a moment or two, here and there, throughout the day to observe the subtle details. Ignore the demands and observe a few of the little things that may seem unimportant at the time but bring about a small sense of self.
It is mindful meditation in the simplest form, but it will provide a small shred of balance to this busy life.
Stop, just for a moment, and look.
Feel the simple satisfaction that comes with knowing where you are.
© 2024 j.g. lewis
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a reminder of love
It doesn’t take Fathers Day
to remind me what I have
that makes life as sweet as it is.
I have a daughter, and every
day I am blessed.
I have only one child and know
not the experience of raising
a son, or multiple children.
I know that I could, easily,
share my love further but,
perhaps, am spared the
decision on which way, or
how my attention would be
divided. I am blessed.
Whether it is a daughter, son,
or any multiple combination
thereof, I hope you’re reminded
of the love you are a part of, and
a love that continues to grow.© 2019 j.g. lewis
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rainy day ways
I don’t do umbrellas.
Well, I do… or I have, but it is always a temporary thing.
It seems I can never keep a bumbershoot in my possession.
Who knows how many I have lost, or misplaced, or left behind at unknown points along my journey? I have purchased, been gifted, and found more umbrellas than I dare to count. Many have been abandoned in cabs, coffee shops or cocktail lounges, business meetings, funerals, hotel rooms, or hanging on the coat rack at some soon-forgotten lover’s apartment (I do remember the quick getaway in the pre-dawn hours, only to be reminded by the downpour on the wet tenement steps the moment I got outside).
I will not spend another dollar on something I am sure to lose again, the money far better spent on lottery tickets where there is an even greater chance of a return.
Instead, on those mornings where rain has arrived or is threatening, I choose to don this old reliable Tilley hat that my father gave me some 30 years ago. With an almost umbrella-sized brim (protecting my eyeglasses from errant or evident splish-splash), it is ugly, utilitarian, and utterly useful; with hands-free convenience, it does what it is supposed to do, promises nothing more, and is there when I need it.
I haven’t lost it yet.© 2021 j.g. lewis
