What makes a morning?
What makes it right?
Alarm clocks chime,
coffee scent, or the Sun
shedding first fragments of
its life? Never not the time that
begins the day, shifting through
seasons slightly altered either way.
Conceivably it is our attitude
coming out of precious night.
What makes a morning?
What becomes of the light?
© 2026 j.g. lewis
The depths of winter never closer than now. Breath hangs in the atmosphere sturdy as snow off the eaves. Mind the forecast, for tomorrow (or the tomorrow that follows) will be deeper and darker. You will learn the true strength of your character. Naturally.
01/22/2026 j.g.l.
I can’t be bothered with deadlines. Or, at least, I’m trying to avoid them.
Deadlines put limits on your time and attention; your perspective is only allowed to expand within the capacity it is allowed. It can be both limited and limiting.
You miss so much when you concentrate on a deadline; or the time allowed will not allow you to stray from the task at hand.
I have many tasks, and I’m trying to allow myself the time to complete them all. I think it is far easier to function without deadlines.
01/20/2026 j.g.l.
I wake each day, full of ache or full of wonder. Sometimes it is the same.
Some days feel like others, but really they are not.
Each day contains approximately the same number of hours, yet it’s the science of the light, or the politics of the pavement, that will deceive even the most earnest disciple.
Daily essentials; truth or trust, and the occasional coffee, are the only elements that will truly advance humanity.
Don’t leave your dreams on the pillow, don’t let your faith flounder, and don’t bother repeating the basic mistakes you did Tuesday (or that night in December). If you do it again it will still be the same.
It’s a new day, another way to discover physics, poetry, or the anatomy of circumstance.
Own your resilience, honour your silence, and admit your deficiencies.
Refill your coffee when you run out of reason.
© 2018 j.g. lewis
Every day
we show ourselves
as we are.
Each day is different.
Still, we remain
as we are.
Who will notice. Who
can see beyond
all we are?
The phases of life, as with
the phases of our Moon
evolve. As do we.
Here we are
all that remains.
© j.g. lewis