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.
Caught up in the fragility of the moment, or
situation, or of the mind, we are all fighting battles.
War exists, one way or another, in our minds;
in this life. These times are tough.
So caught up in the bigger picture, all the
little things go unnoticed. Reality check.
In this city, guns and violence on the street,
in the school, forever on the news.
This year’s twelfth or thirteenth homicide
perpetrator was 14-years-old; the victim 18.
The laws are there but no one cares; they
simply want their freedoms. Regardless.
Politics is blood sport. Promises or ideology
mixed with anger, fear, and stupidity.
Common sense and sanity; one is not the other.
Neither exists in the state of now, or again.
No declaration or participation, there is no peace.
Is everything else is too important?
© 2022 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.