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 can’t tell (or don’t know) if I’ll be up before dawn or if I will lay awake tonight, or any night.
I’m attracted to things going on in our skies. Perhaps insomnia has a purpose.
The night offers perspective.
The stars, the clouds, the Moon, and all those mundane and misplaced miracles (like stardust, space junk, timid teenage dreams and erotic fantasy) show us how small we actually are.
It is proportionate to our perspective.
I believe our desire to see the reality of the sky keeps our childlike curiosity alive.
I think we need things that shock and awe to maintain our sense of wonder.
Like full moons, and like tonight.
The Moon is not simply reflected light.
© 2017 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.