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 a problem for me.
It has been for a while.
I had convinced myself that it was under control – that I was really just a social reader – and I could stop at anytime. I have even gone months without picking up a book.
Yesterday, I was reminded how much of a problem it had become.
I’d just managed to get through the Christmas season, where I was gifted a number of intriguing reads. And I’ve still got several brand new books on my night table that I had picked up in the fall. My bedside itself is evidence of how out of control this habit has become with its two or three stacks of hardcover and paperbacks all stacked up and ready to read.
Yet, there I was yesterday, at the Toronto Reference Library, flipping through racks of great deals on great literature in the used book sale corner.
How could I resist the temptation?
My hands were full, and then I spot this sign on the wall. I am indeed a bookaholic.
I need the kind of help you can only find in a good book.
01/05/2023 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.