Mythos & Marginalia

2015 – 2025: a decade of days

etcetera

  • life is good

    I have never been this age before; that itself a reason for celebration

    or concern. I suppose it depends on how you look at past days and years 

    and the many more to come. My mindset matters with all considerations

    of what is going on nowadays with others as much as myself. Life is good.

     

    Years ago, and I can’t specifically recall how many they were or how 

    many times, I wondered what it would be like when I was older.

    I am now, but perhaps not as old as I thought, or as I expected, or

    what I was thinking. What is old? What should it feel like? Why?

     

    In a decade or so will I consider old to be what I am, or what I was?

    What am if I do not question what I am, if not where I am, in the

    grand scheme of life? It’s the way it should be, naturally or curiously,

    as we question life and how we should be living. Shouldn’t we?

     

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

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  • marks on the page

    We take tally of days, events, and milestones that matter;

    even subconsciously. They matter, in time, or at the time.

    Each stroke, each day, represents something monumental

    in some way. We recall days, perhaps not as often as we

    should, that leave an impression on our mind. People and

    places influence our solitary path, especially when we feel

    alone. The conscious kindness of others will brighten your 

    life cycle in periods when you need to shed greater light on 

    what we have lived through. No columns represent wins or 

    loses. Every single mark a subtle stanza of a never-ending 

    poem registering episodes of emotion. Over time, all of our

    experiences add up to well-lived life. Swift as a heartbeat, the 

    sheer number of marks on the page is ever-humbling. We 

    are present through it all. Whatever stage you find yourself

    in this journey, it is just as important to remember all of the 

    occasions and occurrences as it is to leave space for more.

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

     

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  • Beyond Congenialities

    Emotions are the same in any language, yet

    there will be incidents where you don’t understand.

         Not for lack of trying.

    Life lessons — if not history — have taught us nothing.

    Humanity’s polarity persists past present boundaries 

    to points unknown, even unconsidered, even now.

    Daily news, political views usurp common sense as

    deterioration of human rights remain a plight 

    upon our soul’s landscape.

         Where is dignity of diversity?

         Why can’t we live together?

    We can hypothesize, empathize, rationalize, or sympathise;

    it takes an effort greater than what we exert.

    Distractions hinder; not as much as they hurt.

    This division by bloodline, gender, orientation, social status, 

    or nation is oft considered more a division 

    than what it needs to be.

         We must try harder. 

         It is far more than you and me

    Humility takes effort. Our attempts seem so unfulfilled,

    detractions day-by-day of what we value most.

    See the signs, be aware, we will only find resolution if 

    we dare to step beyond congenialities.

    Each sole survivor in this human race will only survive

    tests of time if we flavour our thoughts with grace and

    understanding. A common mind.

         Apathy has no place.

    We must learn to love one another before we run out of time.

     

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

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  • nature’s solace

    Conscious clarity defines interpretation, enthusiastic 

    engagement with your surroundings modifies the obvious.

     

    Reflections of prior knowledge clutter immediate impression 

    of the world surrounding you now. Look deeper.

     

    Place yourself beyond all that appears to be, physically

    even philosophically. Overlook the momentary minutiae.

     

    Greater meaning manifests itself within nature’s solace.

    Consolation is subtly internal in the infinite external.

     

    © 2024 j.g. lewis

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  • concrete in her ways

    Windswept soil and worry 
    damper weathered wings. Decades of dust weigh heavily 
    upon her shoulders, Angel watching over dandelions and 
    discarded needles on the church lawn. Too early for
    spring cleaning, as if nobody cares to notice.
     
    She has seen better days, 
    long-time caretaker of a street corner where the discarded 
    and deviant line up weekdays for nutrition, attention 
    or companionship; someone who will listen
    when words are hard to come by.
     
    Without a prayer, or hope, 
    faith eludes the less fortunate, even under watchful eyes. 
    It became worse during pandemic days where souls lay about
    our streets like Styrofoam and cardboard containers that
    once contained lunch. Now litter, useless to anyone. 
     
    Heartache by the day, a dose 
    of prevention one trick away. Beggars and choosers, mothers 
    and losers. No one sets the table when there is nothing left to eat.
    Sole angel, concrete in her ways, is always there,
    for those who choose to notice.

     
    © 2024 j.g.lewis

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