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.
Costs of living intently rising with greater momentum
than we have experienced in decades. Inflation. A dollar
eroding, daily, hourly, overnight as markets contract or
give way to pressures we have not known; for a while.
Geo-political influences, war we cannot ignore, news
streaming 24 hours a day. It is the way we live. Digitally.
Death toll accumulates; we have been watching the
numbers climb for well over two years now. This virus.
Pandemic focused our psyche on the ebb and flow of
what little we know. Climate change we once ignored,
heat or rain in amounts we have not seen before, in areas
once plagued by drought. We only think we remember.
The earth is changing, and we with it. How can we not?
Efforts all for nothing, we take stock of what we have and
all we have lost. We feel a deficit, financially and morally.
We contemplate circumstances never before considered.
Money is more than our own concern; and concerned
we must be. Drastic shifts of the dollar; our wallet not as
bulky as it once was. Common cents. Pump prices rise,
daily, to record levels. It will again, the costs of this pain.
So much has been misplaced, most of all this sense of
community. Look around. Do you see the abundance of
friends and colleagues we used to know? How did they go?
How can we afford to sustain the inevitable unavoidable?
© 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.