We won’t admit
we share the pain.
We tell ourselves
again and again
we are different.
We don’t know
what anyone feels,
or how anyone
deals with this now.
We can’t remember.
We don’t know
how to behave
like we used to.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
we can’t remember
cloud songs
Days, weeks, then months
and years drift by.
Not always noticeable, or even
memorable, the time behind us
simply accumulates. All in all,
the sum of its parts leads to
a life well-lived, if you take
a moment to notice.
09/10/2024 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
It’s not about height
or breadth, or depth.
It is all about perspective.
What limits you?
How far can you see?
To what end do you
appreciate what is in front of you?
Looking back is hindsight
and you have already been there.
Change your point of view.
Look up.
Don’t overlook opportunities.
What are your limits?
09/09/2024 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.
cloud songs
Posted on August 27, 2024 by j.g.lewis
Leave a comment
Does the night have
fewer questions, or are you naturally
allowed more substantive time
for thought?
Our daylight hours require agility
to navigate ever-present issues
which matter more to others
than to your self. Anxiety overwhelms,
even on good days. Never are you
of the mind to deal with it.
There is always something else.
Always, all ways, always.
Nighttime is more
than a reprieve. Darkness allows you
to breathe easier, it seems. Mind
always active, in a certain sort of way,
even in sleep you seem
to find your way.
08/37/2024 j.g.l.
