Rolled up like a scroll, You still feel the roll Of a train around the bend. It echoes like a friend.
It takes you back to yesterday, When you didn't have as much to say. You were building your own mystery, And you didn't know it had its own history.
One fallen timber at a time. It becomes something sublime. Memories unwanted, pushed from the mind As if meant to be left behind.
I loved it when you said my name, And who could ever be to blame For falling in love every single day, With how you took my breath away.
On the river, we built our house of dreams, The foundation stones made it as real as it seems. I asked you to marry me; You said we already were. It was days like this that lived as just a blur.
One fallen timber at a time. It becomes something sublime. Memories unwanted, pushed from the mind As if meant to be left behind.
We built a little life together. There along that beautiful river. It was something real and better, That beautiful life lived together.
Your love for me was a mystery. You gave me love and a family. There in the life we made, Beneath the oak tree's shade.
One fallen timber at a time. It becomes something sublime. Memories unwanted, pushed from the mind As if meant to be left behind.
With the arrival of this lady, There was a feeling of just maybe We were formed by Heaven above, Every moment spent was one of love.
Looking into your eyes erased the miles. I was always lost in your smiles. Late at night, our sweet baby cries. I found my life inside your eyes.
One fallen timber at a time. It becomes something sublime. Memories unwanted, pushed from the mind As if meant to be left behind.
(c) January 26, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
The story of Job requires attention. It's a story filled with critical tension. Dating back to pre-Mosaic antiquity, Job is a tale of pre-Abrahamic history.
Earlier than the Greeks had their philosophy, Job asked the questions of high morality. Deeper than deep can ever attempt to be, The story of Job has great relevancy.
Every poetic word is a struggle shown by poetry As man meets God in all of His complexity. There are frozen moments that are quite literary, But not a word of Job reflects less than God's integrity.
The glory of the Heavens show this with clarity, And contrasts with the wicked one's insincerity. A refrain of reinforced truth is kept in our minds. There is no lesson here that should be left behind.
The Book of Job is a meditation on the living worship That serves to reinforce our holiest relationship. The waves of God's ocean shapes our hearts of stone. These press us forward into our need to atone.
Job was a righteous man who lived upright, Walking his steps within God's shining light. Every moment of devotion was spent in sincerity, Even on the day that Satan came to challenge his resiliency.
Satan's contention is that doing good for good Is an easy task for Job to be undertaken and understood. Satan challenged God to allow Job to be put to a test. In enduring pain, could Job truly prove best?
The shifting sands of life are seen as these unfold The tale of a good man who was tested and remained bold. His steadfast faithfulness was strong even in deficiency, And God's grace was proven one that provided suffiency.
Job kept strong in keeping true to his integrity, Even in the face of what had to feel incendiary. Seasons of life can feel very wrong, But from the whirlwind, we know where we belong.
God's enduring honesty provided His only explanation, Setting the limits from creation's very foundation. All that we can know is from God's creativity, And he is still here as certain as His longevity.
The stresses of pain come in life, however blameless. The causes may not show, and, indeed, be nameless. Spiritual warfare happens, and it causes us pain. His presence during this keeps life from being in vain.
God didn't become an angel to save the angels' vanity. But God did come down to save the blessings of humanity. Like a confident father, He trusted Job's navigation, And watched Job triumph despite all of life's circumspection.
We may not know God's full story, But we must now stand in God's true glory, Right through the storms that come in life, God comes to give peace even in the midst of strife.
God comes to feel the real in our humanity. Chaos, flooding, and storms challenge our integrity. He speaks honestly to us to calm us sincerely As He hung on the cross to save us despite our vanity.
This fallen world is beyond our comprehension. But it must be walked through without apprehension. We stand righteous, holding tight to our belief. It doesn't matter, whatever trouble or grief.
God is still and will always be the God in control. We know this and trust this within our souls. It is in His mighty name that we pray, Knowing that God's love is forever and will always stay.
(c) January 25, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” – Job 1:21 NIV
Working a little love for opportunity, In the neighborhood, it's new for me To try to get a little something That might free me up to sing.
Climbing in through the window, Hoping to hide in the shadows. We tussle, then walk through the door. It's what it is to be living poor.
Living quietly in the apology. It's what passes as life for you and me. There is no color for poverty. There is only you and what passes for me.
So little love is handed out. That which is, is given in doubt. But that which is given ready-made, If you can move past being afraid.
Mom and Dad constructs are figments. The darkness shown hides the pigments. No one can explain the mystery. Between tears, they blame it on history.
Living quietly in the apology. It's what passes as life for you and me. There is no color for poverty. There is only you and what passes for me.
One fist at a time, it comes down to blood As the children wrestle around in the mud. Standing up is the best that you can do. At least it feels so in the ghetto's view.
In the street's fallen sight, A boy needs to prove himself in fight. It's how you get respect and a name. Nobody talks about this losing game.
Living quietly in the apology. It's what passes as life for you and me. There is no color for poverty. There is only you and what passes for me.
Floating back in life's fatal swim, The chances flow out a little dim. Still, you give it your best try As your brothers cry, "do it or die!"
We are only staying in this game To pretend that none of us is to blame. The struggle given is not to play. We live as we live until our judgment day.
Living quietly in the apology. It's what passes as life for you and me. There is no color for poverty. There is only you and what passes for me.
(c) January 24, 2026 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The ultimate notion of right is that which tends to the universal good; and when one’s acting in a certain manner has this tendency he has a right thus to act.” – Francis Hutcheson
“Peace requires something far more difficult than revenge or merely turning the other cheek; it requires empathizing with the fears and unmet needs that provide the impetus for people to attack each other. Being aware of these feelings and needs, people lose their desire to attack back because they can see the human ignorance leading to these attacks; instead, their goal becomes providing the empathic connection and education that will enable them to transcend their violence and engage in cooperative relationships.” – Marshall B. Rosenberg, “Speak Peace in a World of Conflict: What You Say Next Will Change Your World”(2005)
Each of us can be heroes of our own story From the humblest beginnings, we can find glory. Childbirth is a mix of care and witticism When what's needed is optimism.
We can hope, but it's a kind of deviance That a child is born regardless of convenience. A child will be fussed over all the same, When from the first moment, he earns his name.
Day after day, a child becomes who they are. Without deliberation, they follow their own stars. With patience, they learn the letters of their story. Their numbered days lead them to know glory.
Memories are woven into our lives led. Until the last day when we wake up dead. But the in-between moments are filled with days Cherished and lived until we reach our grown-up ways.
Childhood days are also filled with open skies. There's a world to see with childhood's eyes. From farm field to the seaside's shore, With riches like these, one cannot be poor.
Any complaints perceived rise from grievances had. It's easier for some hearts to pretend to be sad. Life is to be had by who have lived and dared, And having ha it, forget about being scared.
Each face has its own sort of prominence. Each place is filled with its own importance. Life is meant to be lived with its romance, Filled with dreams and every taken chance.
We must watch those who would take our happiness. After all, life is meant to be filled with bliss. Childhood is to be enjoyed, not a constant fight. It's the worst sort of shame, if not done right.
The worst sort of monsters insist on control, Rules imposed only rob a child's natural soul. It's easier to learn when touched by love. Isn't that the lesson taught by our Father above?
Let us share, and even be mindful That some find life less than wonderful. The will take advantage of our good nature, As we find life as it is and naturally mature.
January 23, 2024 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 