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.
Often, occasionally, sporadically,
even spontaneously,
I make mistakes.
They happen naturally:
a missed word or apostrophe,
my mind gets moving and
I fail to see the errs of my ways,
or errors throughout the day.
It is, or was, or has been
when I write or what I say.
Incidentally or accidentally,
it goes without saying,
but the fact remains
I make mistakes.
Every day.
We learn from our mishaps, or
should anyway, we try to
improve and continue
to count the ways. What we do
and how we behave
counts for a lot.
My eraser rubbed raw
by attempts and change,
I continue to make mistakes.
Forgive me please when
my thoughts go amiss, and
remember I am human amidst
this confusion or corruption
we all experience.
I make mistakes,
I may fail or fall,
yet remain myself, flaws and all.
© 2018 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.