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.
Silently, or suspiciously standing in one place,
in between unsteady steps I take throughout the day.
Waiting, even for a moment. Respite for the time being,
perhaps, not even knowing why. Questioning, unquestionably,
each of us continuously striving to keep moving at our own pace,
Caught up in this human race, surviving, maybe thriving as we try to
determine the flow we know is best. We think.
A little later today, earlier for some, we all have a path; a better way,
leading to better day. Moving in different directions, sometimes hastily,
as required. Some of us are simply limping along.
The weight on our shoulders slows us down. We must, once
in a while, stop and let it settle. Far more than waiting. Unconscious
thinking, our minds move, even if our feet are firmly planted. Progress
not always certain, we can only hope our intentions continue
propelling us further. It has to be more than hope,
yet we still we try to keep it all in stride.
© 2023 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.