I met up with some old friends on Sunday and we sat and visited for a while. After all of the drama that has been going on in my life lately, it was great to just catch up, share and have a few good laughs. I often wonder why things happen as they do, but from what I have been reading lately, nothing in life is unplanned or without purpose; the only unfixed variable is our response, otherwise known as "choice." We can either wallow in the mire of the moment, or we can raise it up as an opportunity to make it more. Like the servants who were charged with protecting the masters talents, we can bury them for safe keeping and only give back what we received, or we can invest a little time, effort and skill to produce more of a good thing than what we started with. I took this thought to heart last night as I was preparing for bed. I decided to take the drama of the past and to transform it into something more. The following is the result of a conversation with friends and means for healing. Thank you William Faulkner and William Shakespeare.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
“Macbeth” William Shakespeare
Midnight driving
Gentle tolling
Wesley United Methodist
Fading into nothingness
Pulling away from old memories
Reminiscences of bygone days
Sound and fury raises
In my mind a cacophonous roar.
Empty chair monologue
Solace in darkness
Drama plays raw emotion
Man-tears of utter desolation
Like nuclear winter
Destroying all hope
No resolution
No consolation.
Fearful imaginations
Accusatory language
Cross examinations
Peering out from roadside shadows
Like deer caught in headlamps glow
Red eyed and paralyzed like foe
Before the shot gun blast
I am no hero.
-D.A. Wittler
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
“Macbeth” William Shakespeare
Midnight driving
Gentle tolling
Wesley United Methodist
Fading into nothingness
Pulling away from old memories
Reminiscences of bygone days
Sound and fury raises
In my mind a cacophonous roar.
Empty chair monologue
Solace in darkness
Drama plays raw emotion
Man-tears of utter desolation
Like nuclear winter
Destroying all hope
No resolution
No consolation.
Fearful imaginations
Accusatory language
Cross examinations
Peering out from roadside shadows
Like deer caught in headlamps glow
Red eyed and paralyzed like foe
Before the shot gun blast
I am no hero.
-D.A. Wittler
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