Know when the day stops and
the darkness begins, the difference
between mistakes and sins.
This is the shift that arrives with
the night, where questions rise up
or wonders take flight.
There is incessantly an answer, excuse,
or an alibi. We balance between
acceptance and explanation, and
still we wonder.
12/12/2023 j.g.l.
I’ve been thinking a lot about peace lately.
I always do this time of year — usually referring to December as the season of peace — but given the conflicts and chaos around the globe, my thoughts are running deeper.
We need a deeper peace, everywhere, at this time. I keep seeing the signs, but I’m not feeling it like I usually do.
I need to try harder.
Each of us needs to do what we can to foster peace, promote peace, acknowledge peace, or live in peace where we can, however we can. I know it sounds overly optimistic, but we need to try.
Love thy neighbour has never been a more crucial mission or message.
Familial love, spiritual love, physical or romantic love, or friendship, has never seemed more important to me.
To you I offer peace and love in whatever form you will accept it. .
I give my peace to do what you can to make today a little better than yesterday.
12/10/2023 j.g.l.
Winter memories, particularly this time of year, begin with snow.
Growing up on Canada’s prairies, I remember winter weather would arrive as early as late October and hang on until late March or longer. Many years, ice would still be on the lake when May long weekend rolled around and we were beginning to dream of summer.
Spring, most years, seemed a long while coming.
I grew up knowing, and appreciating, four distinct seasons.
Toronto, my home of almost a decade, is not as accurate. Spring, summer, and autumn all seem to take time, often blurring one into the next with few noticeable differences. Winter seems only to find its place when you least expect it.
One of the things I miss most about the prairies is the true, definite seasons. You know when fall turns to winter, and tend to know it immediately. Seasons are too wishy-washy in Toronto. Nobody here seems to realize you must experience, even respect, a cold, harsh winter to truly recognize a gorgeous summer.
Last night’s slight snow startled me on my morning walk, the nightly dip in temperature allowing precipitation to show its true character.
Snow: it probably won’t last long (it rarely does) but is enough, this morning, to bring forth some winter memories.
That itself will warm me up throughout the day.
12/07/2023 j.g.l.
Counting those days to
that one significant date, with
fascination or anticipation
we all can’t seem to wait.
Wishes and prayers, one in
the same, we may bristle with
excitement at the mention
of his name.
The reason for the season. Logic
and lore shrouded in mystery,
questioned by faith, myth, or
legend and history.
The wonder of his existence,
spoken through the years,
becomes even more exaggerated
as Christmas day nears.
A celebration of sorts for
the gifts we receive, all
depending on whether and
what you believe.
12/01/2023 j.g.l.
