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.
Brightening sky, the questioning why,
each day. World not awake, not yet,
and neither are you. Off to work, or
off to where? The road ahead,
you only stare.
This is not living, but coping. Existing,
at this hour. We do
what we must, as we can, in the space
stretching between silence and
satisfaction. Biding time,
tempted by what we know
and what we need. Questioning why.
Another try, day for day,
find your way. Another wait.
Familiar road. Days the same, no one
to blame, but your self. If you choose,
if you see,
if you try, if you feel.
The bills arrive, of that we know.
Is this the only way to go? Live,
as you can, and must, amid the truth,
without the trust. Questioning sky,
common day, recognizable road,
is there another way?
It is as much about how you navigate
your way through daylight,
as it is through the darkness.
Take the time, know what is right,
sustain yourself through the light.
© 2016 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.