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

The clock and the calendar move
forward incrementally, naturally
(as it should be) from a darker
winter we can’t leave behind to
something resembling spring.
In-between our seasons we take
whatever we can, where we are.
We have little choice.
A less-than-enthusiastic forecast
glares at me from a mobile device,
with greater chance of soakers
more than once or twice in the
week ahead as atmospheric rivers
come down to earth (a convenient
excuse for all it’s worth).
April showers still to come, as it
happens, as it is always done, we
keep moving forward step-by-step
mainly in spite of the weather.

03/27/2023                                                                                                             j.g.l.

of interest

your knowledge is
your currency

save up for what
you need or desire

there is interest
in your wisdom

03/26/2023                                                                                        j.g.l.

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.

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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Home In A Van

Posted on October 15, 2021 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

by Patricia Morgan

Home is movement of the heart
And a conversation with nature.
It’s the place of awe and wonder
At unseen connections
That brings all to a stop
For a moment.

Home is hearing what is
Whispered, trilled, whooshed, or trickled.
Hissed, soughed, or scratched…
When the roar of humanity is silenced.
It is the space that allows a deep exhale
And a settling of the bones,
The relaxation of the muscles to stay…
To stay here today. Tomorrow, maybe there.

Home is this song that has arrived
When the heart quiets
And a weaving of mind, body and spirit
Forms its own state, free
Of boundaries, barriers and walls,
And the perseveration of thoughts.

Home is a mobile tuning fork
In harmony with its surroundings,
Coming to rest in perfect attunement
With community
And nature
And heart
So perfectly
There’s no need to leave…
Until there is because
Home is movement.

Patricia Morgan has lived a migratory existence from Maryland to the South Pacific,
from Oregon to Costa Rica, and currently resides in Washington.


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