Foul Weather

A few thoughts:
It is that strange time of year when the weather cannot seem to decide what it wants to do, but then here in Ohio that is pretty much common place. So I sit here listening to a storm slowly pass overhead, and I begin to wonder how thankful I am that a little rain has come to dissipate some of the extreme heat of the last couple of days. You know, it is kind of funny to think that we close up the windows, turn on the air conditioning, and then find ourselves shivering inside with a blanket. Perhaps that is not the case with everyone, especially me as I have closed up the windows, but have no air conditioning to turn up. This old house stays pretty cool with ceiling fans going, and having a basement underneath. So it's 80 degrees, but it beats 93.
I am reminded of other kinds of heat, and foul weather, the kind that creeps in to wreak havoc on our personal lives like financial problems, relationships​ gone sour, or other  issues that steal away some of the joy in life that we were meant to experience. It is not everyday that we get to see a child being born, or a son graduate from high school, but we cannot allow one little storm cloud, or heat wave to take away from the ordinary things like watching a storm cross the sky. It is OK to let the rain fall so that we may feel the cooling affect that naturally occurs after the storm. I still wish sometimes that I could turn on the air, and crawl beneath a secure blanket when the heat gets too high, but then, what do I learn from that? How can I change the weather of my discontented heart if  I always reach for the simple solution? It is hard not to dive under the covers, get angry, or blame others for our misfortune when simply closing up the windows, and turning​ on the ceiling fan will do. Now, I leave the rest to you. Joy is a simple choice to let go, and let God, or simply stew in our own foul weather. God bless.
Witt

Strange Walls

Four Strange Walls

I embrace quiet
Like I enjoy a falling star
It burns so bright
As it streaks across the sky
And I wonder why
It has to disintegrate
Leaving no impression behind
But a memory
While silence can be broken
Sending shivers down my spine.

If quiet was a commodity
And fallen stars like gold
I'd be rich beyond all measure
Yet I feel like getting old
Is a mere collection
Of burned out stars
Waiting to shine again
And silence is a memory
Noone needs to hold
Any longer than they have to.

For there are days
I long to hear
Children laughing
Instead of
My cuckoo clock ticking
And four strange walls
of nothing.

D.A. Wittler 17'

Stranger Things In Mind

Perfect Stranger

It is getting late,
and I'd rather wait for morning,
than let the pill I took
Steal away the moment
When words redeem me
of my sorrows..

So says the maniac

Living in my head

Who took a chance

And became a perfect stranger

When friendship was the answer

He could not see the harm done

In keeping silent

While rage engulfed hope in flames

Driving love, and all to desperation

Leaving behind a lonely restlessness​

And potential for danger

Where everyone loses

Even the wife

Of a perfect stranger.

You may find me different

Because that's the way I am

Don't judge me by my anger

I am a perfect stranger

Who plays his hand

And loses more than not

He never learned to be a winner

Being lost between extremes

Is his normal state of mind.

Looking for my character

Paralyzed by fear

A dream took me to extremes

Where I saw my brother

Wreaking havoc like a game

And children wear their fame

To bed in shame

Dreaming of that perfect stranger

Who settles for labels

Pills and doctor’s orders

Exchanging innocence for blame

Like that maniac in his brain

Who is merely that perfect stranger

Going to extremes again.

You may find me different

Because that's the way I am

Don't judge me by my anger

I am a perfect stranger

Who plays his hand

And loses more than not

He never learned to be a winner

Being lost between extremes

Is his normal state of mind.

D.A. Wittler 17’

Spring Weather Wonder

Bring On The Rain

Sometimes I wonder

And it's getting late

The sound of thunder

On a cloud filled night

Oh bring on the rain

Though my heart​ breaks again

I long to hear it

Running down the roof

On my window pane

Collecting in a gutter

Washing away the years

From a cluttered street

Where I have traveled

Weary and weak

Wishing and wanting

To share my defeat

With someone so caring

So close through the storm

That it no longer matters

As long as two souls meet.

Bring on the rain

A silent refrain

Left in a gutter

Pouring out into the fields

Where dreams are planted

And tears mingle

With triumph and pain

I'll start all over

When tomorrow comes

If you'll just remember

How I loved you then

And we'll part as friends

Forever wiser

Better than ever.

Water gathers

People head for higher ground

It's all about spring weather

When we awaken

From a long winter slumber

And we're ready to grow once more

Beyond our former selves

Bitter and self centered

Open and like minded

And God hears our prayers

When it rains

He answers

And morning appears

Brighter and in living color

Than we've ever seen.

Ohhh

Bring on the rain

A silent refrain

Left in a gutter

Pouring out into the fields

Where dreams are planted

And tears mingle

With triumph and pain

I'll start all over

When tomorrow comes

If you'll just remember

How I loved you then

And we'll part as friends

Forever wiser

Better than ever.

D.A. Wittler 17’

Wood Smoke and Old Grapes

Joe

The hint of wood smoke

And old grapes

Returns this time of year

As Memorial Day draws near

Setting off remembrances

Like fireflies or sparklers

In my head

Gentle soul of a man I once knew

Who enjoyed his cigarettes

And Bohemian style brew

Walks out of darkness

Smiles

Cracks a joke

Then disappears

Laughter still ringing in my ears

Sitting beside the old stove

Upon the walls

A treasure trove

Collected cans

Tigers pennant

Someone we all know
An average joe

Sits at the bar

Sips his beer

Tips his cap

As you come near

Then waits to tell you

Of that fateful year

When he left home

For the battlefield

Even if he spent it

Upon the quartermaster's chair.

And when he passed

I was there the day

He breathed his last

Autumn blush

On treeless leaves

Silent hush

A whirling breeze

Carried his soul aloft

To the sound of rifle fire

Folded flag

A wooden cross

Forever now with his Savior

Leaving behind

A silent tomb

Scar closed wound

In a garden of stone

With his brethren lost

But not forgotten

Of the cost

Of freedoms won

Yeah, we all know

A man named Joe

Here, or there

Still a Vet

And you can bet

He'll go again

If his country needs him to.

Amen

D.W. Wittler 17’

Who Writes Letters Anymore?

Who Writes Letters Anymore

I was there

When you took your first breath

When my life changed forever

Son, and a brother

We were a growing family then

And I knew you would take the world by storm

The two of you together

One day in a cub scout uniform

The next in a tux

Going to your senior prom

Oh how I remember those days

When you needed me to tie your shoes

And mend those skinned up knees

But this is now

My world has gotten smaller

While yours has gotten bigger

We seem so far apart

But you'll always be in my heart

Son, I love you

Send it in a text

Because who writes letters anymore?

And here I go again

Power of a guilty conscience

Regret is a lonesome pleasure

So many get

When the memories come

Makes me wonder why

If only I knew then

What I know now

But I love you son

And that's all that matters.

Even though the nights stay long

I dream for you to be strong

Keep the faith my boys

You'll need it to keep you

When you've had a bad day

And answers don't come easy

Cause life is like that

You never know what your gonna get

But I'd make a bet

It won't keep you down

Cause I'll be prayin

In the silence of my room

For angels like your mother

To remain at your side

Think I'll send it in a text

Because who writes letters anymore?

And here I go again

Power of a guilty conscience

Regret is a lonesome pleasure

So many get

When the memories come

Makes me wonder why

If only I knew then

What I know now

But I love you son

And that's all that matters now

Take care

No text today

Because I still write letters.

Dad

Title Me Please

A few thoughts:

          Untitled

Quiet child, lost child
Who dwells within
Out amongst the morning​ mist
Gathering in creation
Experiencing everything he can
And when time came
To get in line
He was nowhere to be found
But in the meadow playing.

And so the day came, and went
With no purpose given
Yet in service he did provide
A young man's offering
To God, and country
And in time was shown his loyalty
Determination, and fidelity
Yet no purpose still was found.

So, where to turn he reckoned
To seek love, and start a family
And so he prayed so fervently
Endured a secret suffering
On bended knee, and rosary in hand
Finally his longing granted.

Quiet child, lost child
Who dwells within
Enduring silent suffering
Kept his soul from wondering
As child's play had once been
Yet love withers when not given
All it needs to thrive
Yet children grow regardless
And time passes as a flowing stream
Leaving only memories in it's wake
Like rolling ripples over hidden rocks.

Day upon day he gathers moss
A man forever lost
Mind in field covered with frost
Waiting still for that special something
That never came
Yet he knows within his heart
That words tell a different tale
Quiet child, lost child
To God I sing
What does tomorrow bring?

D.A. Wittler 17'