To My Long Lost June

I left June in a cloud of summer dust not knowing when I would return to continue the quest of this blog; to entertain, educate, and inspire those who follow. With July now upon us and the dog days of August waiting for an opportunity to reveal  what it has in store, let us journey some more together. And so, here's to my long lost June.To faded glory of relationship. To dreams of happier days ahead, and to our heroes who save us from falling into the flames of our self destruction; whether it be a significant other,  friendship, or the love of God.

God Bless
Witt

For Paula:

Falling In The Fire

Lying there in darkness

Holding on to something

Left behind long ago

It's a lonely feeling

Leaves a coldness

Deep down in your soul

Wondering if you'll be

Saved by a hero

Or

Left falling in the fire.

Once upon a time

Is all you've ever known

But life isn't like that

When rain muddies your path

And you wonder where's your hero

There to catch you

When

When you're falling in the fire

Or just dreaming of tomorrow.

So in silence you go

Bitter with a wounded heart

And no one seems to know how you're feeling

Falling in the fire

But your soul yearns to rise

Out of ashes

Burning embers of hope

For tomorrow.

But tomorrow never comes

And today only lingers

Like a mythical creature

Waiting to carry you home

And God only knows

Who will save you

A hero

From falling in the fire

Or a sunrise renewed with hope.

D.A Wittler 16'

A Little Less Closer To Desperation

A Little Less Closer To Desperation

Today,
As I pondered
Weaknesses
Choices made
Paths taken
Loves lost
Journeys ended
New ventures begun
I remembered,
My God forving
Then found myself
A little less closer to desperation.

Yesterday,
A means to gain perspective
An accumulation of lessons
Not future destruction
Self knowledge
Like an open letter
To edit and revise
A work in progress
But never a place to linger for too long
To find oneself
A little less closer to desperation.

Tomorrow,
Waiting like a sunrise
Through an open door of darkness
Whether starry sky
Or cast in gray
Limitless array of possibility
But not to dwell upon
For one must live here and now
To find themselves
A little less closer to desperation.

D.A. Wittler 16'

Samaritan or Victim?

I had an experience over the weekend that troubled me a great deal until early this morning when I woke up from a sound sleep. Let it suffice to say that you can meet all kinds of people with all sorts of agendas on-line. Some are truly sincere while others appear to have alterior motives than mere friendship. To those true friends out there, thank you. And to those who are less than genuine, auf wiedersehen. From here on out I will be a little more discerning as a samaritan and not a victim.

A Trail of Tears

I met a woman
Along the way
Who carried so much loneliness
She carried it like a cross
And made it known how heavy it was.

I stopped amid my searching
To perhaps make a friend
Like that good Samaritan
Bind a wound or soothe her suffering
But when she looked up to me and said: "Hello good sir, do you know our Savior?"
I was stunned to hear her story
Though it was sad
I wondered why she questioned me
And so I shared my story too
Only to be condemned
For my lifelong following.

It seemed as though she was adept
Like some who wear their love upon a sleeve
At passing judgment through a holy name
But I remained
And listened attentively.

She said:
"Sir, I see you are a kind soul
For stopping by to care in my suffering, but would you mind
My witnessing?
Open your eyes and see
Awaken
How you toil in your beliefs
For it is in every word that brings true salvation,
Not through idols and ointments?"

Well, my friends
I stood there most perplexed
As you can imagine
And wondered what to do next
As it appeared this good woman really did not seem to need my assistance at all.
It was like she saw me coming
From far off
And lay down to catch my curiosity
So that she could preach to me
The word I knew for many years
To be so different than what I had caught within my ears.
"The word," she said,
"Is our salvation
Put aside what others say
What tall towers you perceive
To be the truth proclaimed
Be put to shame for establishments
Of men and their heresies
Come, follow through my prophesy
For I have known suffering
And I know the true path you seek."

So then I listened
Perhaps a little begrudgingly
A story fraught with tears
Of men and hypocrisy
Abuse and sin so undeservedly
And came to this conclusion:

Some say they are forgiven
And forgive for past transgressions
But what they really mean
Their hearts cannot let go of
And so they turn to other explanations
Other means to save all nations
They turn away and hide in seclusion
Studying the word and trusting no one
Who would upset the tiny world they have created
Where once they lived and breathed
Albeit with pain and suffering
But now they choose to blame
And drown within their trail of tears
And carry another cross
To which Calvary I am not sure of.

D.A. Wittler 16'

Walk A While

New found friends are like that proverbial "diamond in the rough," they make us realize how such a big world can be brough down to a much smaller space. But to meet two new friends on the same day, what a blessing indeed! That is exactly what happened to me today; even better when a long time friend popped up on a certain social media site to share a laugh. Laughter and friendship,what a trememndous gift on the day before Mother's Day as these three people are moms. I thought the whole idea was to be thankful and present gifts, not recieve them. In any case I wanted to share a new poem I wrote recently. When I started the process of composing the poem, I reached a snag and had to put it aside for a few days. I find it improtant to do so, especially when the idea fixates itself in such a way that it will not go away until it can be fully expressed. Well, wouldn't you know it the idea blossomed and I got more than I originally bargained for in this poem titled: Walk A While. It is a prime example of a big world coming down to size. Happy Mother's Day Mom!

Walk A While

Walk a while
In her shoes
On this path of life
A stone ridden mile
Beneath our feet
Where so many stumble
To learn what true love means.

To the one
Who smooths a sheet
Fluffs a pillow
Folds a crease
Wipes a brow
Steadies a shaking hand
Mounts a daily struggle
Of futility
Time takes a toll
But
True love endures forever.

Walk a mile
Then stay a while
Share a moment
A smile
Before you leave
And my spirit will remember
How you cared for me.

Walk a mile
In her heart
Feel the beat
As she tells you how she feels
Long days
Longer nights
Behind the wheel
Where does this journey lead
She pleads
Can you love me for real?

To the one
Who uses her
Ruffles the covers
Wrinkles the corners
Adds to her sorrow
Walk away
Find your own path
You had your chance
Love lives to see another day
But
You will never have her.

Walk a mile
Then stay a while
Share a moment
A smile
Before you leave
And my spirit will remember
How you cared for me.

D. A. Wittler 16'

Time and Change

They say time changes all things. It places that splash of gray in your hair, carves a few lines a little deeper into your face, and paints a whole new scene on the canvas of your life. So perhaps we move a little slower, pause a little longer, or just sigh a little more as we witness a younger generation pushing us forward towards a certain future. But there are some things time does not change. It cannot change the view of a sunrise or sunset. It does not make us less lovable or needy for companionship. It cannot change our attitude towards life unless we so choose, and it does not mean we are getting old. Time merely ticks off seconds and annotates a certain rhythm on our own special piece of sheet music.

Now that Spring has come and warmer weather is finally urging things to grow again, small town life is all about garage sales. What makes this year different from any other is the fact my boyhood home is up for sale and my folks are no longer able to care for themselves like they once did over the course of sixty odd years together. It pains me to see my mother struggle with her memory or watch my father stubbornly sort his assortment of multicolored, sized, and shaped medications on my sister's kitchen table. And I think to myself: “These are not the people I knew as a kid growing up along with five brothers and sisters under that roof down the street.”What a shame that the accumulation of things throughout a lifetime become a bargain hunters dream. But things themselves do not begin to define the meaning of what it means to change with the rolling tide of time.

One constant sound that keeps me focused tonight is that little cuckoo clock I bought for the folks years ago when I was stationed in Germany. It has come home to roost upon the wall of my apartment and provides a metronome pace to my typing that no digital alarm could ever do to rouse the memories I keep safe in the recesses of my soul. Yes, I mean soul, for no disease could ever steal away the lessons of senior year composition class, the sound of a drill instructor's cadence on an early autumn run in Missouri, or erase the love in a conversation over a long distance phone line. And now I recall the silence of my grandmother's clock as it sits waiting to hear what fate has in store for it. I don't think I want to see it go as an item haggled over between two people out in the driveway. Time, what a curious concept indeed.

And what of change? If time can change the course of mighty rivers and create snow covered peaks where once tropical breezes bred leviathans of mythic proportion millions of years ago, then why not my heart as it revels in a sentimental stupor over things like guilt and poor decisions I learned to hold on to as regret? Why is it that emotional attachments seem to play by a different set of rules? I guess I need to look back over my shoulder and realize that even cuckoo does not function the way it used to way back when as the little man in lederhosen does not peek out from behind the closed door and the music no longer plays by the hour. I guess emotions play a bigger role than mere passing of time when it comes to change.

God love you if you have managed to read down this far. Seems like the twenty four hour news cycle and twenty second sound byte have replaced good old conversation or a good book read for the pure enjoyment of it. It is my hope then that perhaps your tenacity has stirred in your heart a hope that change is not such a bad thing, but a necessary process. If it is hard to let go of the material things, then put them away in safe keeping in your soul for another time and place. Heaven knows we shall revisit the moments and people we once knew as children and recapture the youthful maturity that led us to this space of fond reminiscence that I share with you tonight. Good night little cuckoo and God go with you on your journey through life.

Witt

Gone

I was reminded today how precious those little things in life are that make our loved ones stand out in our memories. Having a parent with dementia makes these intricacies all the more apparent. I want to thank my good friend and former classmate Bev for sharing a video on social media for inspiring this poem. For the love of family and the memories we share, God bless.
Witt


Gone

When they are gone,
who will remember the bad days
when we argued over petty things
because our feelings got in the way;
tempers flared and we got carried away?

When they are gone, who will be strong
and keep family traditions going
because they would have wished it so;
each one precious as a gem to hold
as if they had never left us?

When they are gone,
who will sit and laugh
and remember little things
that bring us to tears
because we no longer have them;
to see or hear them bring those unique qualities to us?

When they are gone,
who will be forgotten
because they were too stubborn
to forgive and forget how they were wronged?

D.A. Wittler 16'

Room Full of Memories

Just another quiet night in front of a glowing screen that gets more out of date like me every day. I do enjoy technology, especially when a thought comes to mind and I need to get it down before it gets lost in my head. Tomorrow brings perhaps another chance or simply closure to an open wound still healing inside. Whatever the outcome, please pray for me. Thank you and God bless.
Witt


I sat beside a fire
Now only a candle burns
I slept beneath the stars
Now only time turns
When I truly lived my life
Now I reside
In a room full of memories
That only she can share
But I am all alone.

I longed to feel your embrace
On hard floors late at night
She told me not to fear
I felt her presence near
My Mother full of grace
But now I am here
Wondering a mystery
It was all meant to be
In a room full of memories.

God knows my struggles
Seems all I've had are troubles
But blessings come through prayer
And I am always there
In a room full of memories.

We loved and laughed
Watched the sun rise together
And life grew
Inside of you
Our purpose came to light
Now in hind sight
Holding on to love
Means more than selfish pride
In a room full of memories.

Pictures hang like distant figures
Crosses there among them too
Display a greater sacrifice
A much higher price
Than I could ever pay
My Lord who always knocks
Upon this door
A quiet solitary space
A room full of memories.


God knows my struggles
Seems all I've had are troubles
But blessings come through prayer
And I am always there
In a room full of memories.

I sit beside a candle
Hoping for a flame
And dream of distant stars
Where once we wished upon
But I know it's not up to me
That time has come and gone
But hearts can rekindle from ashes
If an ember remains beneath them
In a room of things yet to be.

D.A. Wittler 16'