When guided by the Living Word of God, The truth is, it would be a little odd If we fail to think about all that's said. Each slice of this is our nourishing bread.
Those with riches and those who are poor, Know that the breaking of bread means more Than sharing our company and a daily meal. It's a gathering in which life is kept real.
Demeter shed some light on all the reasons For all that we experience in life's seasons. The grains that die only to live again, Provide us with much comfort like our divine friend.
Good seasons begin with the spring's first sprout. We watch over our fields, keeping the weeds out. This is the only way to truly have a good beginning. It takes constant vigilance to keep on winning.
Rome discovered ancient truths about looking ahead. Starving people needed to have their daily bread, A people without nourishment leads to revolution. And so a wise government provides its contribution.
Rome's Empire had spread to all sides of their sea, And kept their trade route safely filled with plenty. The Gospels are a look at Jesus' world in four ways: The words, the works, the conflicts, and the passing days.
A seed must die into the ground for life to be spread, This truth is the way of faith and love, as Jesus said. Our daily bread doesn't come from government but from love. The love that is given to all from our holy God above.
Jesus cried from the cross as He became the sacrifice The truth that only the daily bread from God will suffice. That is revealed in the atonement found in His living death, He arose to breathe into His holiness our communal breath.
(c) April 18, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Any scientist can testify that a dead ocean means a dead planet …. No national law, no national precautions can save the planet. The ocean, more than any other part of our planet, … is a classic example of the absolute need for international global action.” – Thor Heyerdahl
Some say sins come from impatience and indolence, And in this age of only a little bit of innocence. Acedia knows without pretense at ambivalence, That sometimes the best we have is listlessness.
Self-help has seldom beaten getting God's grace. This is the self-talk hinted at by the human race. Rumor has it that we are punished by our sin, And still go right back at them again and again.
Humanity sits here together collectively by inference Wondering how life gets better by tattered reference. Sometimes battered by moments of indifference, These are behaviors learned by petty observance.
There's a dream logic that knows the beauty of decay, Its pieces of circular modernity forcibly rule the day. A moral map is needed from buzz words and human gluttony The sins of envy fill each of us to the brim with envy.
We must unlearn our little conceits of overwhelming will. That is, until our better angels learn to readily prevail. We listen to the winds blow as we learn to become still. It's the closest we come to holiness or ever truly will.
(c) April 17, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The most necessary task of civilization is to teach people how to think. It should be the primary purpose of our public schools. The mind of a child is naturally active, it develops through exercise. Give a child plenty of exercise, for body and brain. The trouble with our way of educating is that it does not give elasticity to the mind. It casts the brain into a mold. It insists that the child must accept. It does not encourage original thought or reasoning, and it lays more stress on memory than observation.” – Thomas Edison
Social media has tipped toward sadness. Out of balance in a world of madness. It's hard to build up resilience In this world stripped of independence.
Helicopter hover offers no lasting solution. Indeed, it's a factor of rabid contribution. The same player shoots up the school again The world and what's within can't be friends.
Every parent hopes for simplicity, But it's a world of angst and anxiety. At least for the modern girl's mind, Loaded with hormones in a world unkind.
Anger pours itself into tinges of outrage, Atrocity and cruelty turn life's page. Life cannot be a constant catastrophe. Yet why is it, and how does it seem to be?
Minor inconvenience doesn't need to be misery Changing how we see things isn't a mystery, But paints a soothing layer to the spectacle, Shaping a world where a modern girl feels capable.
Every parent hopes for simplicity, But it's a world of angst and anxiety. At least for the modern girl's mind, Loaded with hormones in a world unkind.
Time spent alone staring into the virtual void, Would leave the best of us feeling annoyed. Existentially speaking, bad vibes are leaking Into the world's stew even as we are speaking.
All the evidence is more than indicative Social Media is proven harmfully addictive. It's numbingly and eye-bleedingly obvious, These are the tapestries of the devious.
Every parent hopes for simplicity, But it's a world of angst and anxiety. At least for the modern girl's mind, Loaded with hormones in a world unkind.
(c) April 16, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Democracy and socialism have nothing in common but one word, equality. But notice the difference: while democracy seeks equality in liberty, socialism seeks equality in restraint and servitude.”– Alexis de Tocqueville
I was minding my business, Just standing there. I was resting on my crutches, Sipping on a beer.
We had come to pay our Our truest respects. Saying our goodbyes Without any neglect.
A soldier's son Marched up to his coffin. With no dry eyes in the room, Not a single soul was laughing.
How do you tell a crying kid, That everything will be alright? How do you keep the tears hid, Tucked away and out of sight.
I watched his mother As she held her son tight. The man had been my brother Until that firefight.
There are moments lost in my head, When I have wished for something to say. There's really no way to bring back the dead. We promised he would know love every day.
A soldier's son Marched up to his coffin. With no dry eyes in the room, Not a single soul was laughing.
How do you tell a crying kid, That everything will be alright? How do you keep the tears hid, Tucked away and out of sight.
A soldier may be down, But he still has family. Take a look around, We'll never let him be lonely.
Right to the bitter end, I had fought to keep his da here. He was in my platoon and my friend. Until I said goodbye with the last sip of beer.
A soldier's son Marched up to his coffin. With no dry eyes in the room, Not a single soul was laughing.
How do you tell a crying kid, That everything will be alright? How do you keep the tears hid, Tucked away and out of sight.
There are promises That I'll do my best to keep. Some things know no compromise, Despite the tears that we weep.
Like a guardian angel staying n the shadow, I promised to always be near. I reassured the boy and let him know That I would never let him feel fear.
A soldier's son Marched up to his coffin. With no dry eyes in the room, Not a single soul was laughing.
How do you tell a crying kid, That everything will be alright? How do you keep the tears hid, Tucked away and out of sight.
(c) April 15, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
ALOHA PROMISES FOREVER 