Morning Prayer

Dear Lord,
In quiet solitude of morning
I make a sign across my heart
Father, Son and Holy Spirit
And sing a prayer of praise
That you taught us all to say
In moments all alone and together
Behind closed doors.

And why do I sing?
I sing because a great Saint
Augustine proclaimed:
"When you sing, you pray twice"
And so I raise my voice to you my King
My saving grace
Before all manner of things
Creation seen and unseen
Below heaven's realm
Upon earth
Above serpent's sting
And your glory reigns supreme.

To you
Heavenly Host
I lift up my thoughts
My cares
My inmost suffering
And hopes for all my earthly family
That we might all be fed, clothed and cloaked
Beneath a mere shadow of your outstretched wings
And be comforted by your compassion for all beings
Through works and deeds and outward signs
Like rainbows in a clearing sky
And be sent off once again into slumber
As sunset falls and twilight calls
To stars as countess as our dreams.
Amen

The Uniform I Wear

Today I dedicate this acrostic poem to the many volunteers and youth who are associated with the scouting movement. Whether you are an adult, young man or woman, God bless you on your journey; true and straight like the arrow towards the eagle flying above on that golden horizon high above the mountain tops.


The uniform I wear
Hides only my skin
Entirely from cold and wind
Under no guise of pretension or sin
Never yielding to the voices of ignorance
Infinitely reaching out for adventure and knowledge
Forgetting only the negative
Onward striving toward the positive
Removing obstacles in my path
Moving mountains with my prayers
Inspired by those who set a higher standard
Watchful for opportunities to grow
Engaged with my brothers and sisters who care
Attentive to the needs of others and my community
Rare and precious indeed is the uniform I wear.

-D.A. Wittler

Home

Home

Some say:
Home is where you hang your hat.
Others:
There is no place like home.
Perhaps then:
Home is a business proposition
In which gain and loss
are all put down on paper;
a license from the state that recognizes your organization
Then gladly accepts your loss
As just another failed venture.
But home:
In real life is where your heart is
But once lost it can never be gotten again
At least not like the first time
When the world looked brand new
and all that mattered was that special someone
who made you feel like no other.
That's what home is to me.
For better
Or worse
For richer
Or poorer
In sickness
And in health
Home is a final destination
A mansion with many rooms
In which one is your very own
But when your heart is broken
Home seems a million miles away
Hiding in some constellation
Lost among the stars.

- D.A. Wittler 2014

That Once Bright Lamp

Divorce changes everything!
Time changes nothing...
As the memories flood into my mind
I miss the sound of your voice,
the passion in your eyes, the stories of our life
and just being in your presence.
So no, time changes nothing,
but the hurt still resides deep inside me,
though it seems to fade minutely with each passing day
and the tears flow a little less frequently.
I miss you as much today
as I did the day we parted
in that stark and lifeless courtroom.
Can you still hear me somewhere out there
In the recesses of your broken heart?
Can you see my face grown long and dim with despair?
Please know that I am still here amongst the living,
for God knows I have longed for death to take me.
But I know that there are greater causes for living
and my spirit reaches out for meaning
amidst the ashes and ruin of a former life.
Where has that once bright lamp gone?
And so like the phoenix rising,
I will reappear in some distant place
in brighter days and happier space
alongside the love of my life!
I miss you!

- D.A. Wittler 2014

Paying My Way To Heaven

Putting my list together
Christmas time again
And baby you're at the bottom
Cause hurting has a way of calling
When the dust of back stabbing settles
And I would wrap my presents in pay stubs
If it would bring you back to me.

Paying my way to heaven
To keep my boys in shoes
It's all I'm Living for
And baby it only gets worse
As long as you're pointing towards the door.

Baby it's about feelings
And I got a few
So you know what you can do
With all that lawyer nonsense
Giving you the blues.

Paying my way to heaven
To keep my boys in shoes
It's all I'm living for
And baby it only gets worse
As long as you're pointing towards the door.

Worked my last day
for the YMCA
It got me through
Two years of dealing
So what can I say
I'm still here
Kicking and screaming
Like the day I was born.

Paying my way to heaven
To keep my boys in shoes
It's all I'm living for
And baby it only gets worse
As long as you're pointing towards the door.

A little snow on the roof
It's more than proof
I can still out do
Any punk off the street like you.


Paying my way to heaven
To keep my boys in shoes
It's all I'm living for
And baby it only gets worse
As long as you're pointing towards the door.

From the Bottom Up

To the bottom they say a drunk must fall
or an addict at the end of his rope
to realize the damage caused by too much self indulgence;
Too many nights and too many days
caught up in killing the pain
of living every day with issues
heart ache and trying to stay sane
In a world gone mad.

Bouncing back from the bottom
is where I see things
I'm stuck in a battle
But not sticking needles in my veins
or stuck in a bottle;
I'm just a man whom someone lost their faith in
and I'm trying so hard to regain some sense of self respect.

But it seems I'm all out of second chances
and it has started to rain again
In spite of all the midnight cries for help
the prayers and chains of guilt like Marley's ghost
Condemned to roam the earth warning the living
not to complain of every penny spent on good deeds
or every dollar given in vain
To bring about a little happiness
Instead of profit and gain
for the good for goodness sake
and only heaven can count the cost
above any man's balance sheet of sin.

God knows today
I'm working from the bottom up
because their is no lower I can go
where light above will show. Amen

Slow Trains and Detours

Slow Trains and Detours The story of my life Trying to make ends meet Two kids and a wife... It all ended months ago She took the house The kids Most everything else But I'm still hanging on. And where is hope When hope is lost What remains Corn fields and cross roads Long walks in the rain Dealing with the pain Broken dreams Promises I could not keep And nights I could not sleep. Which way to faith When faith in question Takes an unexpected turn So profane To believe in human love Nothing to gain When all is lost And God remains. And where is hope When hope is lost What remains Corn fields and cross roads Long walks in the rain Dealing with the pain Broken dreams Promises I could not keep And nights I could not sleep. And where is the sunset When the dawn carries on Working all day long Just to hand it away A fool and hard earned pay Living for today Because there are no tomorrows. And where is hope When hope is lost What remains Corn fields and cross roads Long walks in the rain Dealing with the pain Broken dreams Promises I could not keep And nights I could not sleep. Good night my darling Darkness finally falls Sleep at long last calls And I will dream of days gone by When there were no trains or detours Just us and time alone To build a family and a home. - D. Wittler 10/13