Each Day Is A Gift
by Michael Doyle

Each day, it seems, is a gift received
From God above, or so it is believed
But there is no real proof to be given
So, a little doubt might yet be forgiven.

Prayer doesn't change God, just the man,
And from this, confidence is taken as it can.
Thanksgiving alongside rightminded supplication
Is the fruit of the spirit, right for this nation.

Answers to prayers come in three flavors to savor.
Each of them according to God's plan without favor.
Played out as words as trite as yes, no, and maybe
Sometimes, I fall apart as it continues to slay me.

Twice removed from the beliefs of only yesterday,
I often find myself alone and stumbling along the way
The past is as deep as the evening's passing shadow.
But my faith sometimes hangs out in the shallows.

I find myself fighting the good fight every day.
Wondering why it is that this is the only way,
And wondering what the value is in what we pray
When our Father knows every word that we might say.

Answers to prayers come in three flavors to savor.
Each of them according to God's plan without favor.
Played out as words as trite as yes, no, and maybe
Sometimes, I fall apart as it continues to slay me.

I have seen better people than me taken harshly down.
I have seen the wisest of men made to look the clown.
Where it is, how it is when it is from the very start,
I know with faith that it begins inside my broken heart.

In our attempts at prayer, we learn to patiently exhale,
While God's spirit sometimes smiles as we learn to inhale.
This is not effort but the way that is according to God's plan,
And, after all, I am not an angel, just an ordinary man.

Answers to prayers come in three flavors to savor.
Each of them according to God's plan without favor.
Played out as words as trite as yes, no, and maybe
Sometimes, I fall apart as it continues to slay me.

(c) May 16, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved