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 . . .

Mondays are just young Fridays

Each morning, every morning, there is time to consider plans for the day, for the weeks, months, perhaps years ahead.
   Formulated in quiet thought, these goals might not be concrete, or complete, but they are personal reminders of what can be achieved over time.
   If I write them down they seem real; more than dreams and wishes. Maybe even more than I should ask for, or more than I am allowed?
   Only time will tell.

09/26/2022                                                                           j.g.l.

Enjoy

Comfort food,
as the temperature dips.

Favorites.

Restaurant special,
mom’s recipe or
make it up as you go.

Is there a better day
than today?

Be nourished.

Take the time
to enjoy.

Remember the leftovers.

09/23/2022                                                                    j.g.l.

Expression

Art is subjective,

graffiti destructive,

or is it

expressive?

 

09/22/2022                                                                   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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Posted on July 26, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

Enlight1

 

Mondays are just young Fridays

Enlight1-25

As with any of this, each or every wakeful
moment, whether horizontal or in an active
stream-of-conscious state, you dare not allow
the doubt to continue further than it has.
Yes, anxiety has threatened to mercilessly
terrorize the duly imagined joy you believed
worthy of, still you managed to quell all
uneasy thoughts.
The years in a vacuum allowed you to tend
to all that was required, though the wall grew
higher, and stronger. What force was able to
seep through the mortar and allow you to feel
hopeful again?
Where has it gone, that which was equal
and true. What happened to all which, once
again, allowed you to breathe fully and feel
passion only heartfelt words could unrest?
A soul can exist in isolation for only so long.
You stumbled slightly, yet took that leap of
faith. Instinct exists for a reason, and you
found more to act on, and less to ignore.
You were not simply fogging the glass.
You lived, if only briefly, that which you
were capable of. Brief need no be, if you can
harvest once more all that is known to be
whole, and true; and waiting.
                                                                               j.g.l.

 

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