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.
We are here daily, in the
moment and on the move.
Flesh and bone, indeed, it is
what people see, but what is
beyond our weight and mass
is what truly counts.
Our morals, ethics, ideas,
obsessions, and decisions,
guide us and control us.
How we react, and what we
dream, our attitude, response,
and how it seems, are purely
functions of the mind.
We think all the time.
What we wear, how we care,
where we go, even what we
choose to know, all take
thought.
It’s not something someone
else can do for you,
there is nothing anyone else
can do to help you
think your way through.
We are our thoughts.
Make them good.
Make them count.
Make them meaningful.
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.