Mythos & Marginalia

life notes between the lines and along the edges

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Posted on October 2, 2016 by j.g.lewis · Leave a comment

October arrives in its own way.

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J.G. Lewis

A writer/photographer living and breathing in the greater Toronto area.

original content and images © j.g. lewis.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.

a daily breath . . .

Meaningful Dialogue

If I were to write you a letter,
what would you want me to say?
Would you be content to read
about the weather, would you like
to know of my days?

Could you relate to my trials and
tribulations, would you settle for my
admissions untold? It is possible to
build some sort meaningful dialogue
as life, as we know it, unfolds?

Aren’t we all are seeking greater
answers, better solutions, or reasons
to understand why? If I were to
write you a letter, would you
even bother sending back a reply?
09/23/2017 j.g.l.
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Precious Autumn

Autumn. What a
beautiful word. Two syllables
that float from your mouth.
Mature. Earthy. Humble.
Autumn.
You can’t rush it; already
it moves too quickly
on its own. Perhaps this is why
memories of Autumn are so clear.
Crisp, concentrated, captured
in such little time.
Winter lasts so long, and
Spring takes a while before
it is even presentable. Summer
is always unpredictable, but
Autumn,
precious Autumn, arrives
and then leaves us enough life,
colour, and anticipation
to see us through
another year.
Autumn.
It can’t wait, but I do.
09/22/2017 j.g.l.
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Be Grateful

Each morning is different.
Not one is exactly the same
as another.
Be grateful for
what you have before you,
knowing there will be
other days. Each one will
be different,
you will also change.
09/21/2017 j.g.l.
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A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking.
They may get you thinking too . . .

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Only Wednesday

Wednesday sits naked
and ordinary
waiting

between the bookends of social Saturday
and restive Sunday. The day is
little more

than a cluster of hours or a stop on the
treadmill. Indecisive and
lonely

nobody chooses a Wednesday. Nothing
happens
on a Wednesday

and it’s the same each week.

Sept 11/01, a Tuesday. London Subway bombings: July 7/05, a Tuesday, also July 21/05,
and also a Tuesday. Assassinations: John Lennon on a Monday, Martin Luther King Jr. a
Thursday, and John F. Kennedy a Friday. Kurt Cobain’s body was discovered on a
Wednesday, but he chose his way out three days earlier. Nothing happens on a
Wednesday.

There are fewer concerts mid-week, and opening night is never a Wednesday. They
never open the Olympics on a Wednesday. Nobody gets married on a Wednesday.

Yet I will choose Wednesday, or I will start with a Wednesday. I'll begin with a page, a
place where I can plant my thoughts. I have many thoughts, each week, every day (even
on Wednesday), but I will commit to posting something once a week. There are seven
days to choose from, and I chose Wednesday.

Now I may post something else on some other day, I’m like that (a true Gemini). If I am
moved or if I have time, if the stars align or the moon gives me a nudge, or if something
is really bothering me, I won’t wait for Wednesday. But I will post something each
Wednesday.

Something will happen each Wednesday, every week. Right here. If you want to see, or
wish to be reminded, sign up. There will also be a daily breath (usually 140 characters or
less) and it will not be limited to Wednesday, but will, or should, arrive every day.

Until Wednesday . . .

-j-

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