How do we choose to travel?
What is reliable in the rain?
What is our ultimate destination,
for this time, this journey, or
this day?
We move at the speed of life.
Depending on traffic, others
may chose to follow your path,
but not your direction.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
A little cold, little wet,
a little tired and yet
I am here. Still,
full of wonder.
The morning chill leaves
little to the imagination
and much less
to hope for.
Expected, perhaps, as it
always is, this time, this
season is only what
we ask of it.
11/21/2024 j.g.l.
The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 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.
The night asks
what has become
of your time and voice,
now barely a whisper
amidst this atmosphere of
deceit and quiet desperation.
Where are you
with your personal evolution?
Have you observed
incremental changes as you
liquidate memory
and emotion?
The night demands
greater attention to
the present and past
predicaments.
Do you stay awake
to even attempt an
answer to this confusion?
j.g.l.
Remember
looking in the mirror
and seeing someone
behind you?
They are still there
to support you, to
remind you, honor
and love you.
Sometimes there is
a good reason for
looking back.
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.
One reply on “Quiet Desperation”
Cavani9
You know I love your blog!!!