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.
Blessed with unseasonably warm temperatures over the past few days, I decided it was time to dust off the bicycle.
My bike is old but, like me, with a little oil and fresh air it functions remarkably well. Both my body and bike have had a fair share of scrapes through the years and have had a number of parts replaced. They’ve both been around the block a couple a couple of times, but still have plenty of miles left.
The first ride of the year was just a chance to get outside; there was no set route, and no particular destination in mind. It certainly wasn’t full-stream-ahead cycling. Heck, I even stopped and sat in the park for a while.
You notice things more clearly on a bicycle. It’s humane. You’re right there, at street level, and can easily see changes to the neighbourhood. When you move through the same area by car, streetcar or bus, you are more shielded and possibly moving too fast.
I wasn’t the only one out taking advantage of the weather. The parks and streets were full of people, parkas and scarves left at home. It felt better than it has for months.
On a bike, it seems you are allowed a little more time to look around, maybe even the chance to lift your face to the sun and feel the natural warmth.
Ever conscious of the rear-view mirror, as you ride, you mostly look ahead.
That’s where we are all going.
03/10/2020 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.