We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
Slow down: even with the ideas that come to quicky. Take the time to acknowledge the feelings that arrive, as they arrive.
Write it down. How else will you remember what you were thinking?
Print neatly. You hardly understand the thoughts at the time, why make it more difficult to comprehend weeks or years from now?
Follow your own logic; only you need to truly make sense of what is happening, or all that has happened.
Pay attention to the lessons of the past. Be mindful that not all are worth repeating.
Clarity. Make corrections as you go. Flaws become more difficult to correct the longer you live with them.
11/14/2024 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.
Sometime. In the past week, or
the past day or two,
it happened.
It is not memory, nor even déjà vu.
You stopped
for a moment, a breath
caught in your chest, a
small tear in the corner
of your eye.
Unaccountable recollection of a moment,
or a face; an amalgam of a personal antidote,
myth, family story of another time or place.
More than a feeling, but not quite an emotion.
Greater than a concept, far more than a notion.
If you called it happiness, you would do it a disservice.
Not enough force to be joy, nor significant gravity
to be bliss. It simply arrives.
Unnoticed, without warning.
The spirit of Christmas
can’t be explained,
cannot be justified,
will not be claimed.
It just is
what it is.
It arrives during a phone call from
a daughter, a playful story about a mom,
or grandmother’s recipe
shared or prepared.
It is fleeting, yes, but
it makes your day.
It’s never enough, but
all we have at times.
Remember that feeling.
© 2018 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.
