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.
Broadcaster, author, music lover, story teller. . . at his core Stewart McLean was a journalist, obvious in the way he handled the W5 of anything. Every story he told, every antidote, was so full of details of who, what, when, where, and why. It always seemed to real.
Through his stories he showed us who we were, or maybe what we wanted to be. He spoke humbly and gave us modesty. He knew the world look brighter when we heard laughter and he allowed us to laugh along with humanity.
He was more than a storyteller; he was a real person telling stories.
In a world of fiction, Stewart McLean gave us a certain reality.
May he rest in peace.
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.