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.
I slept in this morning.
I didn’t hear the internal alarm clock that, almost without fail, awakens me each morn and I must have blissfully enjoyed my time between the sheets without guilt. I woke refreshed without the residue of difficult dreams or urgent concerns that often drive me to the keyboard to tap out some sort of thought, message, or moral.
It seems a refreshed mind is often blank or clear of unsettling thought. At least, it is this morning.
I’m pretty sure I did not stir in the night. I’m pretty sure the air-conditioned comfort of the bedroom was appreciated; especially after a day of wandering about my city in the intense heat and humidity we have been experiencing lately.
I’m pretty sure the last thing I recall before drifting off into the soul satisfying, coma-like slumber was the harsh and heavy Old Testament rain that seems to have removed the humidity from our atmosphere (at least for a time).
The sun is out.
So far, it seems like a good day.
That’s the thought the well rested me will now take further into the day.
07/25/2022 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.