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 . . .

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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cloud songs
Posted on August 31, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

      Slight sunrise,
 spirit of a new day.

                                  Today.

 Take this gentle morning
 and tell me
                    what it means.

 Break your fast,
                      breakaway
from truth or knowledge
holding you hostage.

    Few know
 your gracious attempts at
      righting the wrongs.
          Few see beyond
 the skin, or the surface.

Show them

       How does it feel
       from the inside?

08/31/2018                              j.g.l.

Maybe
Posted on August 30, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

Maybe today
you will find a little less fear in
the truth you’ve been seeking.
Maybe today you will
replace the anxiety
with an emotion that
better serves your soul. Maybe
today you will find what you need,
or a purpose to hold on to.
Maybe today you will discover
nothing is inevitable,
or certain. Or permanent.
Maybe today you can let go
of the past, or challenge
what you have known.
Maybe today you will slip up,
even doubt the real you, but
be reminded of where you are.
Maybe today
you will not make it all the way,
but will place good faith
in tomorrow.

08/30/2018                                  j.g.l.

This Eighth Month
Posted on August 29, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

It stops.
Dreams, planted and paid for, dissipate with the season.
The eighth month,
forever a period of turmoil.
                                                Imbalance.
                                                Injustice.
Always.

The heartbreak of August.
Always endings, always there.

Goodbyes believable, stories told from sixteen onward,
a laundry list of sorrows, added items along the way
from a boy to a man, to whomever I struggle with now
and again.
                                                I don’t know.

I live with it. This eighth month. August. I have naturally learned
to accept. My prescient nature, not always accurate, but available,
should I choose to pay attention to the whispers or my conscience.

Often choices are made for me, although
I continue believing you are where you are
because you ended up here.
                                                 Can you know?

This is not the season to hide, this eight month forebodes.

                                                 Always.

                                                 August.
As quickly as it comes.
As quickly as it goes.

Unhappiness fades away, with flowers, with memories,
with that freedom that comes from shorter midnights.

                                                 Soon to change.
                                                 September soon.

Calendars need not remind of weeks, or
years gone by. Each month has a purpose.

The sky sits lower.

                                                 It waits.
                                                 It knows.

@ 2018 j.g. lewis