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.
A purposefully lost hour will eventually go unnoticed, blending into the procedural moments and transactional habits of the hours ahead.
Daylight will extend further each day, but will we take full advantage of the illumination when we still fear so much of the darkness that has surrounded us for months on end.
We only have to open our eyes to see what we are allowed. It will unfold right in front of you.
Open your mind.
We must.
Ahead of us, past the seasonal stint of numbing cold that greeted me this morning, there will be vibrant colours from tulips now resting in the dirt. Buds will form on all those trees and there is so much foliage to come.
We only have to remember last year, or the years before.
Spring is almost here, and then summer in it’s time. Longer days, enhanced sunlight and greater opportunities are waiting in lay.
How will you take advantage of all that is ahead?
Can you see past the darkness?
03/11/2024 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.