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 am trying to remove myself from any added pressures so I’m trying to move at my own pace. Normally, however, my pace is somewhat greater than it has been.
Consistency, I feel, is important.
I have, normally or naturally, been fairly predicable; even in the most unpredictable ways. I feel I need to be less so, or maybe my concerns need to be less predictable. Especially when those apprehensions are not always my own.
Maybe that is my lesson: your pace need not be predictable, it only needs to be your own.
Lately, I’m feeling like I own too much of the pressure and that it has become an expectation of me to do so.
So, I’m trying to deal with it.
I suppose, in the process, I am trying to lessen all my expectations of (or on) myself.
Expectations lead to apprehension.
07/13/2023 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.