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 . . .
Gentle thoughts, harshly
written on whatever
scrap of paper available.
This is your life.
This is an attempt to
make sense or make do
with the scattered bits of
information that float
to the surface of a
What is of one’s concern
need not translate into a
narrative easily understood
by others. You may not
fully comprehend its true
meaning yourself, at least
not in one sitting.
Give yourself the time.
You need to find the clarity
you need. A daunting task…
you need not ask for any
opinions from others, Each
of us sees things differently.
Today I sit with a stack of blank holiday cards in front of me, and a dog-eared address book full of names, phone numbers and/or addresses from across the globe.
The names are familiar, and the extent to which I know each person varies in time and in depth. Yet, with each name, there is a friendship shared but not acknowledged as often as it should be.
A Christmas card allows me an opportunity. I will write messages of varying length to the people on my list to acknowledge the season as well as the person.
The true meaning of friendship goes beyond words.
I'm like a pencil;
Still I write.
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
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logical and chronological
You can see the stars
hundreds of millions of miles away,
the light of years past flashing each day,
yet you can’t see the bomb blasts
on the other side of this earth.
Thunder may take the time
to memorize the sound, and we will
hear it as spring rain changes from gentle
to worse, but will we know the pain
it has caused?
The dead bodies, civilians, knew the
sounds at close range, even by surprise.
For many, it was the last noise they heard.
Others heard the cries, perhaps
their own voice.
Mass media images and scenes
tell the heartbreaking atrocities of
the invasion of Ukraine. Far enough
that you don’t hear it, close enough
that you feel the pain.
If you think of the breathless bodies
as human beings, as people; mothers
or children, even soldiers, it hurts
a little more – today, tomorrow
and for years to come.
© 2022 j.g. lewis