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.
It’s interesting how quickly some things come back to you.
Yesterday, with the warmth and sunshine we’ve been denied finally gracing our city streets, I took the time to dust off my bicycle.
I pumped up the tires, oiled the chain, wiped down the seat and the frame, and donned my helmet (a cyclist with a helmet has a good head on his shoulders), and set out for a ride with no destination in mind, but with a purpose firmly in place.
As I began rolling, I pumped the brakes and then shifted gears to both check the equipment and gain momentum. I reminded myself that speed was not as important as safety. I watched for traffic as I turned into the bike lane and began to pedal through the city’s downtown.
An hour later, it seemed I wasn’t event thinking about the individual actions required to propel my bike down the street, or shift gears to slow down for the next traffic light or make my way up an incline.
It felt like the bike was an essential part of my anatomy.
After months without even thinking about a lane change, even my hand signals to motorists and fellow cyclists came back to me naturally, as some things do…like riding a bike.
05/16/2021 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.