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.
He wants to be forgiven
for memories he may only possess
of moments not shared, not
obviously or intimately.
What never was
just might have been the
principle or pastime
that caused this unorthodox pain.
He finds it easier to write
a common third-person narrative
than to admit my faults, my
needs or my struggle.
His search for wholeness is
an unforgiving quest to find a
semi-natural state in a world of
compromise and deceit.
My self, my view, my impulse
or intention goes long beyond
what I am or have now.
Deeper thought; a deeper longing.
An uncomfortable truth of
which has been comprised of
falsehoods. What is behind his
flawed and fragile shell?
What I don’t often ask is
often what I will not say and if
you do not address this dichotomy
you will end up going silent.
It is not obvious, nor is it
intentional. It is self-preservation
and so much easier than
having to admit this shame.
© 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.