Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .

communication

Sadly, our voice
is not always
strong, or not always
there ,when it
is needed.

It is hard to know
what to say, or
how to say it,
so often we
remain silent.

Silence stops the
process of
communication,
but it does not
stop the thoughts.

08/09/2022                                                                                   j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

A sign I’ve been glancing at, daily, since I noticed it a week back at a regular coffee stop where I try to begin my day with a dark roast cup of bravery.
   I try to take the time, every morning, to scribble out my current considerations, deliberations, and contemplations on images and memories that have come to me in my dreams and in reality.
   If your first meal of the day is the most important, shouldn’t your first thoughts be as well?
   Take time to write them down. It’s important. What you are thinking affects how you continue to navigate your self through the coming hours or weeks.
   “The bravest thing you can be is yourself.”
   How much courage is required to make it through the remainder of the day? Is a single cup of coffee enough to provide the fortitude required to step further into the day?
   It’s a good start.

08/08/2022                                                                                         j.g.l.

cloud songs

   

       Often we find promise
in the unexpected, only to be
   disappointed by the reality
          that presents itself.

    Tomorrow lacks the
certainty of yesterday,
but leaves enough room
       for hope.

What will this day provide?

08/05/2022                                                                                     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.

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Where Is Here

Posted on November 18, 2015 by j.g.lewis // 2 Comments

_MG_4857 - Version 2

In any language, a scream is a scream,
a cry is a cry, and a tear
a tear.
At a sidewalk café or concert hall,
laughter should be laughter, and music
should be heard. In a civilized nation,
life should be lived without fear,
and with the freedom
to enjoy simple pleasures,
to give, and to love, as we do.

Think not of them, idealistically, but
of you and of me. Life, and our
civil lives,
now compressed to fight or flight.
In any language, on any night,
thoughts remain
bursting with pain, the
shadow of terrorism rising
again. In every country, our hearts
have been crushed.

Restless night, clouded by sorrow and
the news. The images, and views,
the questions,
the why, and why there. Again,
why? Knowing, without question,
it could be anywhere. The streets are
not safe, not tonight, in any country.
Where is here. You cannot see, or
comprehend inhumanity. Not on
that scale, or of that type.

In every language, evil lurks, unexpectedly
displaying its brutal cowardice. We cannot
be shocked,
for it happens, on so many levels,
in so many countries, to many people
on too many streets. Blood is blood.
Knives at home, elsewhere guns
or worse. We see it. We know it.
Yet, on a global scale, our minds
are numb.

Hatred begets violence, justice benign
against those who chose to
use themselves
as weapons of destruction. We
are not safe, not there, not here.
These damaged souls believe
in what they believe; wholly
and without question.
If there is no understanding,
there is only resistance.

Prayers, or a hymn, cannot be offered to
unbelievers, for they will not, or chose not,
to listen.
Guided by spirits, their Gods, and dictators
who know nothing but this atrocious devotion
to another type of mankind. Historically
and now, they cannot know love
or recognize the value of
a human life. For they
cannot be human.

Grieving, raging, and still, beneath our
confusion, above our cries for revenge
or retribution,
lies a love, unpronounced but unfolding.
A heartbeat, sympathies and empathy
to the powerless struggles,
in every language. We, as a civilization,
in any nation, must stand
united in our sense of humanity,
and do so with a fortified will.

We must continue believing in love,
and hope, charity, and trust,
and peace.
Right now, however, there is so little
to those words. We must have faith,
in what we believe, in every heart,
in every body. Difficult to imagine,
but we must. To deny
this resurgence of compassion
is to give in to all this terror stands for.

© 2015 j.g. lewis

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