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 . . .

all my flaws

Who can you blame?
Are the feelings unjust when a decision is a matter of knowing you must find fault or favour with the ill winds of change?
It is never enough to simply rearrange plans or predicaments. It is like making a prediction of all my flaws with my faith as fractured or fragile as it is, or has been.
Far easier to see what I haven’t been doing.

03/24/2023                                                                                                         j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

We tire of unpredictable weather, the damp morning chill, wet socks and lost mittens. Winter keeps reminding it is not through with us.
   We have suffered long enough.
   The streets are tired and dirty and the time change only makes things darker in the morning.
   We need a brighter view.
   We need, now, the renewal that comes with spring.

03/20/2023                                                                                          j.g.l.


Progress comes less from planning than participation.
Dreams and wishes require action and attention.
Start moving.

03/19/2023                                                                                                         j.g.l.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
other times
dull or
Still I write.

j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.

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I Can Smell Spring

Posted on March 16, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment


 Today’s rain washed away most
       of the evidence of winter.
The water has spilled over the river’s banks
       but is receding.
                                    The air is fragrant
       with the change of season.
       Maybe it is because the dust has settled for a bit
       but I could smell spring as I walked the streets.
At one point, this afternoon, it was like nighttime
       in the middle of the day,
                                     the windshield wipers kept time
       to the rhythm of life.
This evening, however, just after the sun had
       disappeared altogether, low-lying clouds
       hovered just above
       and in patches.
Stars shone through the clouds
       like freckles on a lover’s skin, peeking out of the
       crisp sheets.
                              Spring brings optimism
       and hope.
You hear people on the streets again,
       they too are pleased.
       Just wait for summer.
                             I can feel peace,
                                                            can you?
        © 2006 j.g. lewis

Image: Wet Prairies
Artist: Steve Repa – 1977

Ten years ago, in a journal, I wrote this for my daughter. An early spring then,
as it is now. Seasons may change, but poetry remains, as does optimism and hope.

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