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  Dec 2022 CZ
Janet Doyle
I look at the red sun setting, as night creeps slowly in,
Is this the final ending? Or is this where I begin?
On the brink the whole world teeters, a fall will lose it all,
But a leap to fly forever! And how the sky does call,
Eternity to shatter, and the day it will subside,
We are on the edge together, here where our fates collide,
One to stand in ruins, an illusion lost in the night,
One to jump in darkness, and turn a plummet into flight.
But the dawn that follows evening, remembers all to well,
The emptiness, the losses, a red sun to rise in Hell.

  Dec 2022 CZ
Janet Doyle
I feel the water through my fingers,
I chase serenity and peace,
And what I wanted how it lingers,
A dream forgotten, doesn’t cease.
Though the catacombs were winding,
The water still came rushing in,
And the guideposts I was finding,
Hadn’t shown me how to swim,
Getting deeper, fear of drowning,
Emotions swirling in the dark,
Only seconds, downward counting,
In the wet there is no spark,
With the night sky up above me,
The forest air I thought I’d found,
A cavern’s ceiling, I blink to see,
And a past of tombs, all around,
Another turn, though convoluted,
I’m quite at home, here in the black,
Thunder roaring, lightning muted,
Twisting, bending, going back,
When the moon rose, light in darkness,
I break the surface, gasp the air,
And swim for shore, follow madness,
The land is burning in despair.

  Dec 2022 CZ
Janet Doyle
There comes a cold December when the snow covers the ground,
It softens all the edges and it mutes all of the sound,
I shiver in my jacket and I think of sunset skies,
When the birds were singing sweetly and color of your eyes,

There’s a fire that’s burning somewhere and it warms the winter’s night,
While the wind blows past the window,
clouds obscure the pale moonlight,

And there’s blankets full of comfort lying softly in a pile,
Somewhere, somehow, I will get there to remain a little while,
While the snow gets ever deeper and the cold seems here to stay,
Though it be a cold December we can chase the cold away.

  Apr 2022 CZ
Every bend of a mountain stream
Has an inlet somewhere,
A little warm corner where the
Currents churn slow
And soft
Across the water worn rocks.

And notice how the river's things
Quick darting fish and splintered
Sticks all come to rest
For a moment in the rhythm of this Gently swirling space
That gives freely of her embrace
Before everything goes drifting on and
On to where it is supposed to go
Waterways to the raging sea
And beyond.

And I am an inlet.

I do not know how to turn cold and
Resist each time
Love comes close.
No, I reach out to gather and to hold.

But yet, it is always only passing
Through and like the gentle bend of a Mountain river, I must let go.

So it is
Every time
I find myself alone.

Sitting by the banks of a
Rushing river
Listening to the whisper of the water That sounds like

Everyone I know goes away
In the end.
-Johnnie Cash
  Feb 2022 CZ
in the depth of human tragedy
there is also this dillema
of tyranny
that either the truth or the lie
is going to crash the tyrant

they play reality games
the delusion will end in catastrophe
how much of the world is going to take with it?

spring is in a rush this year,
to affirm the rationality
of life
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