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.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
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.
While out for a walk last Saturday, not long before the afternoon rain, I came across a Peregrine Falcon, one of the fastest birds in the world.
The falcon was, at this time, slowing things down and taking a rest on the roof of a car on Queen Street.
The bird held its place on top of the car while a small crowd gathered and the cars, buses and bikes continued streaming by in downtown Toronto.
The peregrine commanded respect, like it knew it was being admired.
Even the car owner patiently waited to see what the bird would next do.
Peregrine Falcons — in my limited Falcon knowledge — generally prefer higher perches, so it was a treat to see a cosmopolitan bird of prey this close, for this length of time.
I waited for a bit, snapped a couple of photos, and then moved on.
I had more of the day to take in before the rain arrived.
Keep your eyes open, you never know what you are going to see today.
07/26/2021 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.