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.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 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.
A holiday Monday: the final day of a much-needed (and much-appreciated) three-day weekend.
We need more days like this, a day where nothing is as it usually is and we can use the time to do the things we’ve been trying to do but haven’t been able to make the time to do them.
I’ve got a desk that needs more than a simple uncluttering (in fact, an entire office that needs more than a little organization), more than a few chores, but most of all, I have several letters to respond to.
It seems, these days, I can’t find the time during the week to reply to letters from regular letters writers (certainly more regular than I have been lately), so given that today is a free day, I shall do just that.
I am a letter writer, I like to say, but lately haven’t been writing as many as I should. I got a start on one letter yesterday, but yesterday (like so many other days) turned into a day where I didn’t do what I intended to do. It was another day of incomplete intentions and, in reflection, I’m still not sure why.
So today is that day, unplanned or not, that I shall write about what’s been going on to the people who took the time to write and tell me what is going on in their lives.
Letters are a wonderful way to share thoughts and tales of the now and then, and a joy to read, especially when you take the time to read and respond.
Today is that kind of day and I’ve got so much to say.
02/20/2022 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.