Life in all its histories Is filled with a million mysteries Things that might have gone better Written and unwritten, letter by letter
We find ourselves filling up the holes Trying to bring comfort to our souls Stepping in an avalanche pulling us down We try to find our smiles to turn around our frowns
Conquering the pain that life reveals Refusing to be lost in the details Life plays out just as it will Be it dull surprises or living thrill by thrill
Figuring out the puzzle, finding peace in the pieces Keeping our inner demons on sturdy leashes And then we pass this world onto the next generation Knowing that they have lost all sense of veneration
We hope they'll do better at passing the test Having given them what we knew to be our best It seems to be part of God's secret plan Maybe it is just part of being mortal man
Trying our best, we make our mistakes Finding love as we can while embracing heartbreaks Troubled that nothing tells us what to do We wish the best to whose next in the rear view
(c) April 16, 2022 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“[T]he only foundation for a useful education in a republic is to be laid in religion. Without this there can be no virtue, and without virtue there can be no liberty, and liberty is the object and life of all republican governments.” – Benjamin Rush
In the Depth of God's Love (Thoughts on Good Friday 2022) by Michael Doyle
In the depth of God's love We're wondered after life's disasters As we raise our prayers above And think on the outcome of forever after
True love is held in meditation Its meaning causes some hesitation The come and go of so many feelings Do not touch the meaning of true love's revealing
True love is consistent in its voice No matter the sin, true love remains His choice It is an adjective shown in action As God forgives us all to our gratification
The deeper we love, the greater we sacrifice This thought lingers on Good Friday and does suffice To illustrate how God's love is beyond comprehension And we are undeserving in its mercy and realization
Christ died for the ungodly; we who are sinners Demonstrating His love for us redemptive beginners That God as Christ sacrificed His loving divinity This is the whole of our sacred theology
Powerless and ungodly, God's grace bought our salvation Shaming the strong, Christ's mercy gave us our station At the foot of the cross, His enemies became family Offering the purest love instead of wrath for the unholy
Through the pains He would endure, He chose to forgive Giving His earthly life that His enemies might live Through this, humanity gained its blessed reconciliation As Jesus' sacrifice removed our cursed alienation
Loving the Lord with all of our heart, soul, and mind The first and greatest commandment that humanity will find We learned of true love because He loved us first Only His living waters can quench our thirst
The more we realize God's love, the more we love others As we approach Good Friday with our sisters and brothers And as Christ has given us his living sacrifice What will we answer as like Roman soldiers we roll our dice?
(c) April 15, 2022 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Blown smoke seen through a window The feel of doubt, imprinted on her shadow The detective watches the young widow Looking for clues, he might recognize and know
He thinks back on days of reverie That are no longer more than memory Shivering in the dark the tries to keep out Always present since learning what life is about
On and on, the night knows its secret moods Sometimes contrite, others simply rude Running like a stargazer reading for a sign Still saddened to find the numbers are not divine
Too many children are lost within the system Because those that should have loved have forgot them Paganini's revenge burns across the silver strings In these days that never know what tomorrow brings
Running back into the arms of yesterday's sorrow All of those troubles the wise would never borrow Life doesn't see all of the souls that feel empty We're a ship of fools sailing onto the rocks of misery
(c) April 14, 2022 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“A book, once it is printed and published, becomes individual. It is by its publication as decisively severed from its author as in parturition a child is cut off from its parent. The book “means” thereafter, perforce, — both grammatically and actually,– whatever meaning this or that reader gets out of it.” -James Branch Cabell, novelist, essayist, critic (14 Apr 1879-1958)
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
