Each day, two worlds collide. On distant horizons, unknown spirituous soldiers march forward, their lives consumed by the rising flames. Hardened steel swords strike flesh or shields. The sparks of battle shower the sky in light as the dragon’s cannons roar their flames of conquest. In the morning hours, light is victorious—those who have fallen, reincarnated. In the evening hours, darkness counterattacks. Endless battle since the beginning of time—there is no truce, no victor, only infinite war. The flags of their victories waved before fading in the breaking dawn and approaching darkness. Victory is transitory, only a few grains of time in the Book of Time. Each day in this millennium, there is light, and there is darkness. Sunrise brings welcome light, and sunset speaks of the coming darkness. In some regions and through oral history, stories are told of those who are no longer with us, who rise at sunset to celebrate the freedom found in their reflections dancing on water. The Picks believed that their brethren, slain by the Romans—who had usurped their lands—rose in vengeance. Their faces painted blue for war, blue ghosts walked the night from sunset to sunrise, punishing Roman spirits throughout the valleys and hills. Romans who never returned home, abandoned in shallow, unmarked graves, desecrated the soil. They would find no rest, no peace—a fitting justice for their sins. Ghost stories, vampires in the night, zombies, creatures under your bed... sounds in the darkness that haunt our thoughts. One shivers through the night waiting for the breaking of dawn. Throughout history, humanity has dealt with the fear of darkness - its unknown, unseen presence, often only revealed as a whisper or the breath of creeping coldness. Children hide under their beds as monsters rule their nights, and parents shoulder comfort. Those walking the streets at night shudder as they pass dark alleys with shadows where unknowns huddle and stare. We leave the perceived safety of lighted spaces to venture into the night...to bathe ourselves, free of light’s restrictions, carrying a weighted mask to be who we really are or not. The contrast between Jekyll and Hyde played out... in the waiting mysteries of a bottle or something else. The constant battle of all time... the goodness of light and the fear of darkness. Risks taken... Fools shout defiantly into the darkness... I was young once, as the shadows of night stir. I wrote a poem about the night and our relationship with it some time ago. It was called the Streets of the Night. Below is an excerpt... The mirror of our night Reflect on all the words of our time Our sunglasses shield us As the stars fight to peer inside Few gather at their watering holes Telling stories that should not be told We wander aimlessly The streets of the night Needing shelter from the coming storm Yet the night or darkness has its beauty. The night sky twinkles and winks ... a shadowy moon emerges from behind a fast-moving cloud, illuminating a path. Before us... the stillness of the night reflected on the waters before us... a mirror to your soul. There are predators in the night... that is their time... their life ... their purpose. There are predators in the light as well... some hidden, some not. One could claim that one’s life is a journey on an endless winding spiral staircase. Step one is birth, followed by the steps that transform your future and lock your past. You begin with your steps controlled by others. These are days when events beyond your control determine each step, yet you must deal with the consequences. Later, each step hesitant or made with haste, with some confidence... winds calling out, influencing your choices. Life is but a series of choices followed by thoughts of joy, peace, regret, or happiness. Some steps lead to darkness; others lead to times of light. Impossible to get each step right. A staircase has steps that go up and down, not unlike the game Snakes and Ladders, and sometimes someone turns the light switch on and off. Then the next steps are in light or darkness. One’s Steps Eyes so young strain to realize What lies before in the steps to come A staircase rises to the heavens Or falls to the depths of hell Each step is a pressure point In a life of many choices What is done... cannot be untied Happiness and opportunity may shine Or regret that holds one in chains At the end of my steps One may envision going back in time All my steps lay bare before me. Judgement, they say... comes to all. I have said many times that my life is a swirling sea of challenges... Many I chose, and some chose me. Others were a burden placed on me. Some I conquered with my flag marking my rise to that peak.... some lie dormant still lurking.... waiting... others will never see my flag... I have moved on. In my book, *The Lighthouse* (available now), I address themes of significant loss, atonement for past wrongs, life challenges, and deliverance from dark times. There can be growth and redemption from the chaos and mistakes of one’s past. Those who face difficulties in life may find their spirits blended with the colours of the next sunrise, conquering the roaring dragons of their time to find life and fulfilment once more. The waters of life are not always turbulent... a stillness comes when you are ready. Below is the introduction to The Lighthouse. The Seas Before Tonight, it continued unabated. A dark, daunting ritual of the past few months, lying alone in a bed tethered to a hidden room. The steady, hypnotic spin of my companion — this ceiling fan — marks the endless passage of my time. Its gentle breeze washes over, its buzz a metronome marking the music of its time. The fan’s long, thin, silver chain dangles, its links catching in the moonlight. Before me, its hypnotic sway meant to adjust the speed or, perhaps, to mesmerize me with its rhythmic tinkling. I’m wondering aloud, as I need to speak to someone, as my friends are a dry desert right now. “If I pull it three times, each tug would be an attempt to erase my past errors. Two quick pulls and, hopefully, the memories of the past few months would leave like smoke, leaving behind only a hazy trace. Is that possible?” My second book, scheduled for release in spring 2026, examines the interplay between light and darkness in this world. It tells the story of two witches who battle through centuries to maintain a balance between light and darkness, good and evil. Here... subject to endless editing is the first paragraph... As the sunset brushed the sky with its vibrant hues, a man of a thousand years posed a profound riddle for humanity. How does one escape the relentless cycle of mundane days? This morning, as the day’s light finds me, I hid behind cheap sunglasses with bullseye bloodshot eyes, staring at the riddle taped haphazardly with yellowing plastic tape to my noisy refrigerator. Seeking some relief and less stale air, I ventured to sit on the worn, stained concrete steps that mark the entrance to this place. Their coolness and bleakness reflect my morning. I am a victim today ... of my grave decisions. Bored out of my skull yesterday, dazed and confused like always, I accepted an invitation. This weakness rose once more from the shallow depths inside me. Now I pay the price on the front steps of my apartment building, alone with my pain as my head spins. I need water or perhaps more hair of the dog. To all, each new day brings the light of day and the darkness of night, showcasing both humanity’s cruelty and goodness. It is said that some things never change—history often feels like a continuous cycle, like a movie filled with flames and rippling peaceful ponds. The Sun Always Shines As I strolled on the beach one day Caressed by a sunrise My soul reached out In welcome that day Off to my right, There was a great commotion A dumpster fire of smoke and fire Trying to usurp the sunrise Hmmm... I spoke Looks like just another day More shit is coming down To contend with each day Life is too short Sometimes, friends are too few. Each day is a blessing If I only approach it that way Each sunrise is a start Of a new day The possibilities are endless If I think the right way One can consider the world a mess Let it mess with my head No, that is not a path I choose A challenge to thrive in the lighted way There is goodness all around To open my eyes each morning As the light’s magic flows inside The peace of sunrise is my shadow I walk in its footsteps, always beside A hand holding tight to mine Life is too short Sometimes, friends are too few. Each day is a blessing If I only approach it that way Each sunrise is a start Of a new day The possibilities are endless If I think the right way If I feel the right way When my last sunset comes I walk to find joy in its bright light My spirit is free To walk forever in the light Tom D. Welsh Copyright 2025. All rights reserved.

Continuing with a barrage of announcements, our world is filled with too many gaps, too many holes. Things leak when there are holes in them. The nagging drip, drip, drip or a raging waterfall in containers. If these gaps and these holes connect, we could find ourselves lost in a bottomless abyss. This is indisputable and should raise concerns on so many levels. Alternative facts will not suffice, nor will tinfoil hats shield us from their powerful influence. Say what… Why has this not been covered on mainstream news services? They seem to think they have more important things to do these days. The proliferating holes in our environment will soon catch up to us. They are multiplying like rabbits or rats. I bet you don’t understand this… I expected that. Maybe you think I have a hole in my head! There it starts just like that. Holes can disguise themselves. Sneaky things… they can choose other situations to blend in more and attract less attention. Here are some examples - sneaky little things and sometimes quite large ones. breach, burrow, cave, cavity, depression, gash, gorge, hollow, peephole, shaft, vent, notch Definition: A hole is a hollow place in a solid body, thing, or surface. What is not said here is that a hole is nothingness…it is an empty void. Since a spirit, ghost, or apparition is not solid…it cannot have a hole? So, what exactly makes up a hole? Holes are defined as openings or voids in solid structures. However, that definition may not be illuminating. Holes can form through various processes, both natural and artificial. In nature, holes might arise from geological actions, erosion, or the activities of living organisms, such as burrowing animals. Artificial means can include drilling, mining, or even the wear and tear of materials. My first question is: Does the toilet swirling after flushing create a hole? Just asking. Despite the prevalence of holes in our environment, there seems to be no definitive information on our ability to control their formation. This raises intriguing questions: How many holes can manifest in an area? What determines their size and depth? Each factor likely varies depending on the context of the hole, but precise answers remain elusive. The phenomenon of holes invites further exploration and understanding as it intertwines with the natural world and human influence. Wow…we are doomed! Scientific definition of a hole. Hole, cavity, and excavation refer to a hollow place in anything. Hole is the common word for this emptiness…a hole in one’s head. A cavity is the formal or scientific term for a void within a body or substance, through which things can pass in or out. So, this would be a rabbit hole. This cannot be a hole in a cup, as it does not come back; it only ends up on you and is not coming back. So many holes…too many Humans have so many names for holes. Foxholes… a place to hide Black holes…sucking us in…not good Assholes…insert your own words here Hole In The Wall…a dump Hole in the head…which one Potholes…nasty, everyday things in our paths Today, our world is littered with voids—persistent issues and unresolved matters that we create daily. It seems they never truly disappear. They continue to simmer and boil over, too hot to the touch. When we plunge too deeply and too quickly into these metaphorical rabbit holes, we may find ourselves lost, unable to see the light of day. Instead of clarity, we are engulfed in darkness and surrounded by shadows. In darkness and shadows, fear breeds and waits impatiently… a Viper’s venom. The once-clear trail we thought we could follow, much like a trail of popcorn, became invisible, leaving us wandering in a realm of confusion and uncertainty. The Seven Holes One has seven holes Which way do we each face Each hour of each day Our mixture of holes Ones that see, ones that speak Those who hear, others breathe, Watching us in the mirror Each morning, each day To determine who we are Seven portals to absorb The light and darkness of each day Then, to release our spirits To soar or fall To those around us Each day A man entered a bar, sat down, and looked around. He appeared perplexed and increasingly agitated. Finally, the bartender approached him, keeping some distance. “Are you okay? What can I get you?” Still glancing around nervously, the newcomer replied in hushed tones, “What do you recommend will fill my gaping void? Don’t you see it…the void…the hole?” Now, you complete the story.