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.
Unrelenting in its determination,
unceasing. Our resiliency stronger
than even we know, a capacity for
understanding more than what shows.
How then to deal with, or accommodate,
even lessen the impact. Cause and effect.
A conundrum. An intrusion. Never ending.
Daunted by circumstance, inundated with
ignorance, we struggle with our self.
Breathe. Let it out.
Are you able to manage the pressure, as
it builds, as it corrupts, as it influences
each and every decision or outcome.
We all are feeling more than we deserve.
It is constant in its resolve. How will you
know when you are ready to blow?
Does it accumulate internally, littering
precious thought patterns, preventing
progress. Can it be prevented?
Breathe. Let it go.
©2019 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.
