Left behind or lost.
Misfortune, missteps, mistakes,
a question again:
What do you do when something is missing?
Comfort, affection,
lost your direction?
Where have you been and where do you go?
Do you wander
or do you wait?
All alone.
Do you know?
How will you find your way?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
You begin to understand, at a certain age,
it is not about understanding everything.
It doesn’t make sense, any more, any less,
but becomes easier to understand
or accept. Nevertheless,
in this realm of limited-time offers and
best-before dates, coming of age seems right.
Come what may, give or take,
to trial and error, it no longer matters, now,
who wasn’t there. Destination straight ahead,
on a certain date, in a certain way,
you carry any range of emotions
more purposefully, on any given day.
Often you have more to say, yet wisely choose
whom you repeat it to.
Every day is not the same.
Glimpses of yesterday rarely appear. Anyway.
This was the tomorrow we looked forward to.
©2018 j.g. lewis
I am numb.
Actually, I am sickened by Monday’s developing news about four pedestrians killed by a truck Sunday evening in a city not that far away from me. Then it was reported a fourth person, a boy, who also suffered serious injuries.
It was later reported that all victims were three generations of the same family, who were hit when a truck jumped the curb at an intersection.
By Monday night, it was reported that it was not an accident, but a premeditated attack on a Muslim family.
The nine-year old boy has lost his father, mother, sister and grandmother: targets of a 20-year-old man who deliberately drove onto the sidewalk and mowed down this family.
He did so because they were Muslim.
It was a racial attack.
It was mass murder.
The driver has been charged with four counts of first-degree murder and one count of attempted murder. Police have said other charges, including terrorism, are possible.
We’ll learn more as the week progresses, even more when the driver, barely out of his teens, appears in court Thursday.
The investigation continues and the news spreads – like sadness, grief, fear, and anger – across this country; across this globe.
It was an act of terrorism, said Canada’s Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.
My heart and soul reverberates with each piece of news from every broadcast I hear. My eyes tear up as I read newspapers and points of view on social media.
I can make no sense of this.
I don’t think like that.
This was a family out for a walk together on a warm spring evening, one of the few things we can do, as a family, in these COVID-19 lockdown days.
They were attacked.
They were killed because of what they represented to one man.
I don’t like thinking about it, can hardly write about it, and don’t want to talk about it; but I must.
We all must talk more openly about racism and hatred in any form.
We must talk with family, friends and strangers.
We must speak out against hate. And discrimination. We must speak out against violence, in action and intention, against others.
We must do this together.
We are all human.
Speak out against hate
Speak up for others
Speak up for your self.
Speak up for this family.
© 2021 j.g.lewis
There is a tree on the highway between Brandon and Winnipeg, one I have passed
hundreds of times, which marks the halfway point of the journey.
Roots deep and strong, the tree has been there my whole life, surviving deep-freeze
winters, occasional drought, and the widening of the highway. It is an important tree,
familiar to anybody who grew up in the area. Mention “the tree” and people immediately
know where you were.
The landmark helped answer the ‘how much farther’ question from a restless kid in the
back of a sweltering station wagon, and came in handy on any of the bloodshot drives
across the barren prairies at 4 a.m., winter or summer.
The tree is a part of me, even now, if only in memory.
It’s too bad there aren’t more trees in our lives, markers to let us know something is
halfway done. Yes, we have battery meters that let us know when our laptop or personal
device is running low, gas gauges in the car, and clocks and calendars, but we need more
organic clues to help us navigate this journey.
Don’t we often question if the glass is half empty, or half full?
We tend to do things differently when we get onto the second half of anything.. Knowing
there is only one more lap around the track, we naturally pick up the pace to put in our
best performance? If we are caught up in a particularly enjoyable evening, don’t we tend
to ease up a little at the halfway point, trying to stretch out the pleasure to avoid the
inevitable?
There can be increased optimism if something is nearly done, or added sadness because
time is expiring. If we don’t know where we are, how can we know how to react?
June is, for all intents and purposes, the halfway point of the year. By its very nature it is
a wonderful month for reminding us where we have been, and what we have done, while
still allowing time to look ahead at the possibilities. Summer comes with June; and color,
and optimism. Longer days allow a review of the grief and glory we have experienced,
and provide increased light to renew your intentions and review your values.
This month is a pulse check. How is your heart beating? What remains unfinished, what
is still undone, what more can you do? How will you do it? Should you even bother? Of
course there are more questions, but there is still time for answers.
© 2016 j.g. lewis
An active pacifist,
I am resilient, steadfast,
passive, yet passionate
about all that inspires me.
Protest.
Upsetting,
at times confusing,
we take a stand when we can
but not always
when we should.
Do we
choose to ignore
the significantly unsettling actions
of them who believe in something else?
Why?
How can we know
the truth untold, but
exhibited so many ways?
Are we not blessed
with perception? Can we
know the ignorance evident
in public displays of rejection?
Stand up for what matters.
Make it matter. More.
Can you
believe in your heart, in
your soul? In me?
There is so much more to say.
Will you? Speak up.
© 2021 j.g. lewis