sleep
perceived value
otherworldly delights
rest upon familiar pillows
one in the same
and you can’t know
where the mind goes
or whom your images
may touch
there is worth
in the way
you remember by day
all that night
will keep
to itself
© 2018 j.g. lewis
We should forever be grateful to those who had the nerve, the courage, or the insight to point out the errs of our ways.
All too frequently, we remain caught up in the confusion or deception that has, perhaps, surrounded us for too long. It may be days, or weeks; the continuum of life’s cycle stretches over months and years and makes up your emotional journey. It can, at times, become depressing.
It might take another voice, even that from the unknown, which causes us to sit and take notice. It forces us back into balance.
We are humbled.
The cycle is not complete until we recognize, even apologize, for what we have done, or said, or not bothered with. It is yet another step on this path.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
Nostalgia has a way of getting to me. It’s the recent heat that got me thinking of summer days long past.
As a kid, before the responsibility of summer jobs, I was one of a passel of free-range boys who roamed the city on our bicycles. Every day was an adventure. Often, we were off to the ball diamond for practice or a pick-up game with whomever was available. The term ‘boys of summer’ wasn’t familiar to me then, but that’s what we were.
Leaving home in the morning with instructions from our moms to be safe and be home for dinner, the days were ours to explore. Carrying nothing but our ball gloves, or skateboards, we set off on familiar streets and paths.
These were the days long before kids carried water bottles, and long before we knew anything about “hydration”. We would ride and play until we were thirsty and then search for a source of refreshment.
A few parks or playgrounds may have had water fountains, but more often than not, we were never close. Our parched souls were tamed by a common garden hose. Every home had one.
It wasn’t uncommon for us to ask a lady tending to her garden if we could have a drink from her hose. Sometimes, we wouldn’t even ask.
Those were the days before plastic water bottles could be purchased at any corner store or gas station. And who had the pocket change to purchase anything? Had we any cash, a nickel or two could buy a popsicle. Popsicles, in those days, were designed to be split in two. Is there anything that demonstrated friendship like splitting a popsicle with a friend?
But really, who would spend money on water?
Fresh water, straight from the hose, brings back soothing memories as a true taste of summer.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
The city grows quiet in this oppressive heat.
People may well be off to cottage country where a nearby lake provides enough respite for sunburnt skin; more likely they stay inside.
With the increasing temperatures of the last couple of days – and the forecast of more heat (and no rain) for the week ahead – air-conditioning is a welcome break for those who have it. Those without it simply suffer and hide away from this blazing sun.
Heat warnings fill the airwaves, reminders to stay hydrated and to check in with neighbours. Outdoor events have been cancelled or postponed. It is safer to stay inside. Thoughts of climate change and where this planet is headed are frequent. We continue hearing news of belligerent heatwaves overseas but, locally, it hits home.
Generally, I rave and rant about summer days. Yet, when it gets this hot, there is nothing more to say.
© 2026 j.g. lewis
How can we understand the
human experience if we don’t
allow ourselves the time?
We are all human; full of flaws
but always hopeful.
The high-speed of this life
becomes overwhelming. We
miss out on what we don’t
feel and rarely see what is
meant to be.
In time we may understand.
© 2026 j.g. lewis