mom’s recipe or
make it up as you go.
Is there a better day
Take the time
Remember the leftovers.
original content and images ©j.g. lewis
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 . . .
There is nothing definite about autumn.
Fall is fickle, if not downright unpredictable, right down to when it begins.
We have ‘Meteorological” autumn: defined by splitting the year into nice simple quarters with September 1st chronologically marking the day.
Then we have “Astronomical” autumn beginning on September 22nd and marked by the autumnal equinox.
But last week, I observed “Spiritual” autumn, not as much defined by a date as a feeling.
It was unexpected actually. It was Thursday. The weather had been downright balmy as of late and the trees remain lush and leafy. The gorgeous colours so familiar to autumn have hardly arrived, so the morning chill took me by surprise, and I without a sweater.
Indeed, it felt like autumn.
Autumn comes with the end of summer and is elated closely to going back to school.
How many years of my life have been marked by September? Certainly those of my youth, when summer seemed to last a helluva lot longer than it does these days.
Enjoy your autumn; stretch it out as long as you can because winter, most certainly, will be much more definite.
I'm like a pencil;
Still I write.
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
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What happens to the sleep we didn’t get,
words we did not heed, or tears never allowed
to travel down our cheek?
Those weeks, or months,
you refuse to speak of; what happened?
of the people we didn’t need, or like,
or replaced? Have you given any thought to
what you meant to them? Once upon a time
fairy tale or delusion.
the personalities or prospects,
the ones where you didn’t have the self-respect
to introduce yourself to.
Where was your confidence,
or willingness to bare your soul?
Easier, is it not, to confide in a stranger?
Those familiar with your ways,
those who have read a few chapters of your story
may not understand
Someone back when
knew you well, wanted to know more,
then gave up.
Or was that you?
Emotions enrich our lives,
as easily as they can destroy
all we stay alive for.
Is that a reason to hold back?
There was once value in vulnerability.
Now; well, you know.
If you rephrase the question,
are the answers still the same?
Long past a series of coincidences,
the obscenity of silence remains.
© 2018 j.g. lewis