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 take all dreams with a grain of salt.
Emotions take a licking, worse for wear,
bruises bear witness to the challenge
of friendship. At any age,
infatuation infects common courtesy,
unknown among misfits and hangers-on,
in the desire to be together.
You are among friends.
Among thieves, even casual acquaintances,
honestly it is difficult to see the honesty
apparent in our everyday strife.
But it is worth looking for. Affinity.
Fragile masculinity, genuine femininity,
no distinction, no distractions, imitation
knows no limitation, Humans being human, as
tricky as it is, as finicky as it was, we all
want to belong, It is the people in our lives
that make our lives worthwhile.
© 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.