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.
It is all the things we do, daily things,
habits, inconsequential and pointless
in so many ways. But still we do them
anyway, because we do. We don’t even
need a reason; that is the point. We do
them because it is what we do; all those
things we do. It’s what makes us human.
Funny thing; people notice. You might
even do some of those things with them,
or because of them. It is not uncommon.
Nor is it questionable as fact or as fate.
Our existence is as much our persistence.
It’s not pointless, yet the purpose is not
always clear. Each everyday experience
need not provide a lesson as it is, as it
was, as it happens. Before. Or afterwards.
Clarity. The when can be as much a why.
© 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.