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 . . .

cloud songs

    Kismet, naturally or unexpectedly,
holds sway on this or any other day.
       If we choose to notice.
       If we permit ourselves to linger
a moment or three in a transitive state 
between elements of darkness and bright, 
           morning quells emotions and
   disruptive thoughts we once embraced.

03/26/2024                                                                                     j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

Dented, bruised, scuffed up and circumstantial, the imperfections are obvious.
   It goes past superficial.
   Seeking more than a cover-up, healing is necessary.
   Hope is less than present but needed, so I try to do what I need to do. Each attempt to repair the damage that is done — the day-in-day out flaws that have become ingrained in my psyche — is another step.
   It takes effort. It takes encouragement, and it takes understanding even if I can’t completely comprehend the history that led up to the marks on the façade.
   I need to do the work.
   At times trying is the best I can do when I know I want to do better.

03/25/2024                                                                                                  j.g.l.

the weather still

‘When’ is a question greater than ‘why’.
   Important it is to know ‘when’ something will happen, rather than ‘what’ or ‘where’, because ‘when’ always involves a wait (that’s ‘when’ the ‘why’ kicks in).
   Our patience is tested.
   ‘When will we get there’ or ‘when is it time’? Both questions of our youth, at least, questions of mine.
   Spring has arrived, but ‘when’ will it come? The weather still indicates winter is hardly done.
   How can we wait, or ‘why’ is it we must? You might only find the answers ‘when’ you are ready to trust.

© 2022 j.g. lewis

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.

Follow on social media

Keep in touch

Enter your email to receive notification of significant posts. Don't worry, I won't clog up your inbox or sell your data

From A Place I Once Visited 

Posted on March 29, 2018 by j.g.lewis // 1 Comment

by Heather E. Cameron

New York rain at the end of November 
On skylights that once showed sun
Winter is coming, and I long for you
I’m not home right now, but will be soon
And you won’t be there
You had left me like November into December 
Like the first snow that wants to become spring 
Those raindrops on skylights are my heartbeats 
Tiptoeing across glass and steel
Dreams wishing for slumber 
Skin aching for touch
Eyes wanting more to gaze upon
And a heart that longs to be yours,
in a soul, of a place I’ve visited 

@2018 Heather E. Cameron

Heather E Cameron lives in the small town of Wauconda, IL where you can find her drinking coffee and dreaming of big cities and wide landscapes. She is a wearer of hearts on sleeves, a child of the wilderness, and a lover of simplicity. She is a self-proclaimed poet slowly reaching the masses, one poem at a time.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

One reply on “From A Place I Once Visited ”

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

-->