The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
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.
I think, all to often, we are overwhelmed by the size of this planet, the enormity of it all geographically, and the sheer number of its inhabitants.
It’s a big world.
This year Earth seems even larger, as if there is greater distance between those we love and the people we know. Physical distancing and travel restrictions have, in so many ways, limited our capacity to see, feel and touch fellow our human beings.
But maybe it has also allowed us time to think about those people and, perhaps, even encouraged us to reach out more often, or a little further, to those faraway friends.
Maybe we have found other ways to stay connected, or realized the communication tools available that allow us to, in effect, wave to our neighbours across the street or across the globe.
Maybe we can now value communication a little more, and that wave or comment can take on greater meaning.
Maybe it took a catastrophic event or virus to realize just how much closer we all are, or may actually be.
Maybe we will recognize, or realize, just how good it feels to reach out.
We are only a keystroke away; we are that close.
Thank you for being there.
12/26/2020 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.