I’ve not travelled as often as I should, but find each trip ends with more than memories.
I’m packing now, making sure I take with me all I requite to find comfort where I end up.
Too much baggage can be a deterrent, and too little always leaves you wanting more.
I only think I know what I need. More travel is definitely at the top of my list.
j.g.l.
Some of us
have been broken.
Most of us
are just people.
All of us
need to think about that.
© 2020 j.g. lewis
Pocket change, common cents,
value and worth, present tense.
What you have, or have earned,
all you have spent; lessons learned.
Dollarwise or deficit. Transactional
purchasing power; you bank on it.
In our days of digital, financial sums
now simply numbers on a screen.
Coinage; currency unseen between
sofa cushions, or the bottom of a purse.
In any denomination, money provides
opportunity. It adds up. Spend wisely.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
For months, for what seems like forever, you don’t hear it. Then, suddenly you do.
Birdsong.
Yesterday morning, as I made my way for much-needed coffee, I noticed.
It wasn’t just a few tweets, or honking geese returning home from wherever they were, or the caw of the crows that stuck around all winter, it was full-fledged birdsong.
It was welcome.
It might have been that the Sun is rising earlier now, or that yesterday was mostly sunny and warm (finally); you never know when. Birdsong arrives unexpectedly, it seems, many days before dawn.
It’s a reassuring sound that spring is actually here. Finally. More importantly, it is a sound I will hear more of as the season progresses, and when summer arrives. It’s a sound that says everything is okay, that this planet is not such a bad place (at least locally is it), and you are here.
And now you are hearing nostalgic sounds, heartwarming sounds, sounds fuller than a symphony; sounds that remind you that you’re alive.
Birdsong is random; it comes from all directions. You never seem to see the source, but know it is there. Hearing is believing. It is a morning thing, mostly, or mostly noticeable before the city wakes and the usual noise of the day takes over.
You enjoy it while you can, daily or seasonally, and it is most welcome.
Gratitude is found in birdsong.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
What you see and all you believe, and what you know, are at times unknown.
Confusing, yes, because within our sight so much of what we see is unbelievable, especially now.
How could we ever imagine what is happening on this planet?
History, we thought, hinted at what could happen. Have we ignored lessons of the past or have we been derelict in our understanding, pretending to allow the unknown to become a better part of our reality?
Now, sadly, we know.
Knowing beats unknowing.
To this end, we must ask ourselves (we must know) how far this could go? Certainly, the end is not in sight. It remains unknown.
j.g.l.