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.
A love without compromise;
boundless, inerasable, evermore.
Acceptance; always. All ways.
Forgiveness: like prayers never could.
Perhaps never appreciated enough,
still, a mother knows. I believe
in a mother’s love, a love that grows
even in absence. Evermore.
I lost my Mother long ago, far too early,
by all accounts. I remember her smile.
I remember her voice, as if
it were yesterday, words of wisdom.
A spirit, now, that transcends place
and time. It was the purest love.
I remember, especially today.
Happy Mother’s Day.
05/12/2019 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.
2 replies on “Evermore”
There are no boundaries in a Mother’s love. Live every moment in that love. <3
And you do, my friend…you do.