“For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you.” – Romans 12:3 NIV
To Share A Sunrise
by Michael Doyle
All things in their time, stay partly the same.
It's as if living in some cosmic sort of game.
Though in appearances, all seem to rearrange,
As time moves on, we find things virtually unchanged.
Dredging up the fragments of archeology,
We can guess at what has happened in history
Of all the things that have been left behind
As the rains erase them one by one from our minds.
Italian feels to be the language of fine romance,
As here and there as we dance our countless dances.
Is it better to speak from our hearts or simply die?
The princess looks through her mask, hinting at her reply.
Each of us is stumbling through the best of our mumbles
As we watch time quietly shift as it crumbles.
It's funny how our moments whisper at hoped for eternity
As if like Roman statues, we might know our immortality.
The things that I speak of that might consequently matter,
Speak of a world once strong that has now shattered.
There is a sordid pricelessness to all this clatter
Shared between us as if all this could possibly have mattered.
Old country roads can seem to go on endlessly into forever.
We dare to dream together, thinking ourselves ever so clever.
We say so much, too much perhaps, without saying anything,
Knowing that we must never again speak of this nothing.
Transpired with every look, shared touches are not nothing.
Told as truth, these have a habit of becoming our everything.
The everything we keep to ourselves in our wicked silence.
Afraid as we are that our worlds breed their own violence.
Until it is that we dared to do the deed and finally kiss,
And just as suddenly, I learn and know what I'd miss.
I look into the depths of your brilliant, mesmerizing eyes,
Wondering if we will ever come to sharing our sunrise.
Just as casually, my soul shakes as I start to bleed,
Lost as I am to be caught inside my hidden need.
Your touch helps me in ways I cannot speak or truly know.
All I ask of you is simple: please never let go.
(c) September 27, 2025 Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved
“The right to do something does not mean that doing it is right.“ – William Safre
“The only means of establishing and perpetuating our republican forms of government is the universal education of our youth in the principles of Christianity by means of the Bible.” – Benjamin Rush
On the Swivel
by Michael Doyle
Each passing season brings new discovery.
Hidden within our unintentional etymology,
Each season brings its liberation from history.
When treated as newly known, it brings liberty.
The scholars pretend that it brings new value,
As if these were never noticed by me and you.
After living a lifetime, it's gotten old,
Pretending something revolutionary has been told.
We relax as we continue to grow,
Learning as we have all there is to know.
But there is always more to pretend to know.
If we learn well enough, in time maybe it will show.
We've endured the best of the American dream,
Funny, isn't it, how we want to wake up and scream.
Half the country still wonders if this is as good as it gets,
While a significant minority has absolutely no regrets.
That's the thing about a country growing and learning,
It only leads to more and more dissatisfied yearning.
Yearning for those things we don't have or yet know.
This is how, in life, we are encouraged enough to grow.
So it is with the music that we manage to play,
Never staying the same but changing in delicate ways.
With each new pattern expressed, our souls begin to yearn
For the unknown notes we've never heard, and we have yet to learn.
That's how we go about reaching creativity -
When we are good and ready with receptivity.
These are the moments truly worth living for,
And they are waiting, ready for us to open the doors.
(c) September 26, 2025 Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved
“Every prudent and cautious judge … will remember, that his duty and his business is, not to make the law, but to interpret and apply it.” – Justice James Wilson (1742-1798) ,Member of Continental Congress, signed Declaration of Independence; U.S. Supreme Court Justice and delegate from Pennsylvania, in Lectures on Law (1791)
“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” – T.S. Eliot
Least I forget one of the most cherished parts of my life… Happy National Daughters to two of the best living beings in God’s creation – Angelique and Sierra!!
Counting the Days
by Michael Doyle
I hear from some voices to accentuate
The closest approximation to the positive.
Sometimes that's hard with all the dysfunctionality
That comes from being part of the human family.
I have to remind myself that I am not falling,
And these voices that I hear aren't necessarily calling.
Everything around me and in me will be alright.
All that I have to do is hang on and hold on tight.
Not to whine, but this could use improvement.
If only I weren't my best source of amusement.
Maybe then, I could learn to truly love another,
Enough to amuse my worldly sisters and brothers.
All the hard times that hit, like the pandemic,
But you can't hide from the deaths of an epidemic.
You can only roll and try hard to stiffen your soul.
It's tough when you realize all that's out of control.
Life, and the lives we lead, are full of their own taste.
It's not the kind that we want to carelessly waste.
But it is the kind we want to carefully explore,
As you hang on, truthfully hoping for something more.
Not to give anybody more than their share of shame,
No one in this world should be pushed beyond blame.
But forced hugs don't feel even close to the same
As those given with love and without any shame.
These are the faded questions that fill the head
As you think about fake numbers and hurtful things said.
Like, is pushing so hard at the gym worth the misery
As you start to count the days until you're sixty-three?
The evening approaches, and I turn off the ticking clock.
It's time to pick up my guitar and start to rock.
Isn't it a good way to move past all the future shock
When you and I unwind and start to intimately talk?
Isn't it funny, when you finally open your charming eyes
And you learn to like that which you once despised?
Life is like that, always casting its quiet surprises.
You don't always have to dream between moon up and sunrise.
(c) September 25, 2025 Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved
“Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good.” – Romans 12:21
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