Jerry M. White 
Books and More
Call Me at (404) 452-4738
 

Talk of the Day

is a reflection of thoughts on subjects in the daily news or events which captures my attention in other ways. It is an out growth of my first book called Moments of Mine.

As the title implies, Talk of the Day is a continuation of that thought as these too are Moments of Mine.

Please come often and enjoy your visit.

You may contact me with Moments of Yours if you would like. I have an open door

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The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book entitled Until Today: Stories and Poems on Life as I Know It which is due out the summer of 2012. I hope you enjoy the poems.

Since Christmas was our point of demarcation for Until Today: Stories and Poems on Life as I Know It lets move to more thoughts of the season. Not only is the Christmas Season a point of great joy, it is also a point of great frustration to many as well. It is a spot pointed to on life’s tapestry and scarred with hypocrisy. In fact, for many nonbelievers in the world, it is the very thing that drives them farther and farther from the port of salvation of their souls.

Even to believers it is clear to see disconnection between the virtues of what the season means and the startling reality to which it has eroded. The nonbeliever sees pain in the world. They see injustice in the world. They see self absorption in the world. They wonder why, or how, the Christian community continues to show itself as virtuous in the face of such hypocrisy. This position makes it very difficult for the nonbeliever to become open to any conversation on the subject thereby excluding themselves from any formal study of the Bible at all. It is, as the following poem aptly describes, the Christmas conundrum. How we relieve the Christian community from this scar is up to each individual member of the community. It is in fact our duty.

The point of this view is that if nonbelievers are more apt to not engage in discussion due to hypercritic actions then we need to change our actions to more closely resemble what we profess to believe. It is up to each of us. It is up to each of us independently to be the Fifth Gospel of the Bible because we may just be the only part of the Bible that a nonbeliever will ever read. It is a weighty position and another aspect of the Christmas conundrum.  

The following two of poems will attempt to show in another form what I am referring to. I hope you see the meaning and share it with those around you in many ways. Share the joy of the Christmas Season as a point in the year to stop and reflect on what exactly we have been given as believers. Share the Christmas Season as evangelism’s ground zero in the war that rages between the eternally opposing forces we face daily. Share the Christmas Season to be an honest reflection of your true nature and not simply a seasonal costume. I will pray for you, as I hope you will pray for me, to act accordingly. Enjoy the poems.

 

 

 Christmas Conundrum

 

Christians await the seasonal celebration

Veiled in a world of hypnotic hypocrisy

We believe in the actual reason for the season

Yet live in an increasingly un-Christian democracy

 

We say we believe and attempt to abide

In obedience and faith in who we hope we are

We try to live life as a worthy example

Of life lived under the rule of a Bethlehem star

 

We say love your neighbor and don’t covet his wife

We say turn the other cheek to aggressive behavior

We say loving one another is the number one rule

Yet flinch when asked questions regarding our Savior

 

We say peace, love, and joy throughout the world

We say it is better to give than it is to receive

We say outreach and fellowship are best at this time

Yet do our actions say that we truly believe

 

We say words like honor, integrity, and truth

We say happiness is found only by looking within

We say glad tidings to all and to all a good night

Yet we don’t know where or when to begin

 

The Christmas Season brings a golden opportunity

To make right what once was not wrong

To finally spend time with family and friends

No matter how short the time or how long

 

To know that the season is all about giving

To a friend, to a son, to a daughter, to a wife

And remembering the gift set aside for us all

For the Son gave to all the gift of his life

 

12/22/08

JMW

 

 Time For Reflection

 

The Christmas Season

Is here again

Buy this, buy that

And so it begins

 

Decorations are placed

All through the house

There is much to do

For myself and my wife

 

Holiday parties

Fill the end of the year

When our weight increases

We know Christmas is near

 

Activity swirls

Around each family we know

In fact we know the season

By the places we go

 

To the mall, to tree lightings

To the houses of friends

With cards and packages

To the post office to send

 

All of these things

Are how we know the season

But none of these things

Are the season’s reason

 

Without the birth of The Lamb

In a distant manger

The Christmas Season

Would be a stranger

 

12/12/02

JMW

 

 

 

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Talk of the Day – It’s a Miracle!

Do you remember where you were on February 22nd, 1980? I do. Many people do. That is the day Al Michaels of NBC Sports delivered into the American lexicon “do you believe in miracles?” as the US Olympic Hockey Team defeated the undefeatable Soviet Union Team in Lake Placid, New York. Many hockey fans around the world thought Al Michaels was right…it was a miracle.

 

We used the phrase “it’s a miracle” long before February 22nd, 1980, of course, and we will use it long after you read this today. It is used many times each day as both a jocular comment to friends and as a pious comment from the world’s clergy toward all unexplainable events. We have become desensitized to the phrase. It is simply another phrase used in our language just as “nice day today” or “that’s a wakeup call” or, you fill in the blank _______. The phrase “it’s a miracle” has lost some, if not all, of its oomph. It has become passé if not meaningless altogether to the listener.

 

During the ministry of Jesus He performed miracles of many kinds. They were seen by many and used as tools to provide proof of His status. His apostles held the power themselves after Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection in order to call attention to Christ’s soul-saving power and His relationship with God. There was no mistake in recognizing the incidences as what they were…miracles. Today, however, we have a tendency to explain away the unexplainable through logic, science, or simply coincidence.

 

What exactly am I saying? Are all unexplainable successes in life to be viewed as miraculous? No. Some things do just work themselves out. However, each and every person reading this today can look back and see something in their past that is, in fact, unexplainable. We should need to look no farther back than our own birth or the birth of our own children. However, if we need more evidence, look into the night sky and witness the universe in its symmetry and collective cohesiveness. We can also look into the depths of the sea where there is no discernable light but the fish themselves who glow to create their own light. Or, we can simply look at the person to our right or to our left and know that many wonderfully unexplained events in their life, just as in our own, have transformed them in some way to make them and each of us what we are today.

 

Miracles are, in fact, all around us to see and to marvel at. A conversation with a friend led me to write this today. Our conversation reaffirmed to me the importance of miracles around us and our acknowledgment of them. Some things cannot be explained away through logic, science, or coincidence. They just can’t. I challenge each of you to explain away the event you thought of earlier that you deemed miraculous in your past. With that thought I ask that you read and enjoy a poem from the past called It’s a Miracle.

 

It’s a Miracle

Miracles are all around us

But do we agree on what they are

We all agree on childbirth

But what about the light of a star

 

We all know that the mountains

Are miraculous in themselves

But can we agree on the written word

And their ideas upon our shelves

 

We can probably agree on migration

As a miracle for us to see

And what about a snug cocoon

And the struggle within to be free

 

But some are hard to classify

And put into a miracle vein

Like the devastation of a dreadful drought

And the answered prayer of rain

 

Like the turning of an attitude

Of once a very close friend

Or an episode favorably resolved

When you prayed for a favorable end

 

Miracles are all around us

Sometimes they are hard to see

But the sight of them we know

When they happen to you or me

 4/15/04

JMW

 

 

 

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Talk of the Day – Things Were Different Then

 

I am a very lucky guy. Why? Because I now stand on the other side of the 21st century with some great family traditions received from the 19th century. That makes me a very lucky guy indeed.

 

The house I grew up in was the home where my grandmother and grandfather raised their family and where my mom and dad raised theirs. When my oldest sister married and delivered her first son she and her family moved in for a brief stay making the house home to its fourth generation of the same family.

 

The house was, and still is, located 2 and ½ miles from downtown Marietta, known locally as the Square. It was there that during the summer I could take a dollar bill, see two movies at the Strand Theater, have a hot dog and a coke, and have change left over for caramel popcorn at the store next door. I could then walk across the square to the Cobb County Court House and visit my grandfather at his office. He was in the process then of serving what would become 47 years of service as the county Treasurer. His secretary, Miss Peggy, and I would sit and chat about the movie I had seen and if I was lucky it was court day and I could sit in and listen to the debates of those involved in the cases. Things were different then.

 

The house was new when my grandparents moved in. It had a fireplace in every room. They were all, however, systematically changed over time to first coal, then to natural gas. It was still cold in the winter but with blankets it was not an issue. The kitchen had a pot bellied coal stove for heat and for cooking. I have a scar on my upper right forearm where I fell into the stove and it burned and branded me for life. It was hot in the summer with no air conditioning but with the 7 foot windows open and the screen doors there was always a breeze through the house. At least I thought there was before I had experienced air conditioning for the first time on a regular basis. Oh yeah, and we only had one bathroom and I really never thought anything was wrong with that. Even with all the people in the house. Things were different then.  

 

Summer lunches were called dinner and dinner was called supper. Each had food provided by our property in some way. There was the half acre garden behind the house for vegetables and an apple tree for pies and grape vines for jelly. There were pigs for…well… I just know we had a smoke house as well and there was meat in it. There was a milk cow and I can remember churning butter in the kitchen. There were many chickens for eggs, and for Sunday lunch. My grandmother or grandfather would take the ring to the lott, where the chickens, pigs, and cow was, and take the chicken’s head off. My grandmother would then pluck the chicken, cook it, and eat it for dinner, which was lunch. Things were different then.

 

Summer afternoons I would ready myself for my 2 mile walk to baseball practice or a game at Perry Parham Field. The walk wasn’t bad. Generally my friends and I would walk the railroad tracks across the street. We followed the tracks around the curve and then down the long straight over the bridge crossing South Cobb Drive. When a train came we would jump to the side and wave, especially if it was a passenger train. We could almost touch the people in the cars as they passed. From the bridge it was only a little more until we were all able to stop and throw rocks through the windows of the abandoned Glover Manufacturing Plant which was almost entirely made of glass. At least that is how it appeared to a rock thrower. They used to make trains there so it was a long, tall building with railroad tracks running into it and out the other end. Then on to the field for practice and the walk home again afterward. Sometimes the return trip was near or past dark. If it got too dark I could stop at the Whorley’s house,  The Marietta Lumber Company, Mr. Brown’s store, the Spur gas station, Owen’s Flower Shop, the Brown’s house, the Britton’s house, or the Mulkey’s for help. The trip was familiar and never a threat to my safety. Things were very different then.

 

At night my family would all watch the same television in one room – together. I don’t know how we survived. My sister closest to my age would be practicing her clarinet disrupting the mojo of Andy and Barney or the Beaver. We would awake the next morning to the one bathroom and also breakfast. We had breakfast every day. It was always scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. And yes, you know where most of the breakfast came from. Things were different then.

 

I say all this because we have lost so much in the process of growing and developing as a nation and as people. We have somehow lost each other. We find ourselves floating unmoored on the lake of life and we wonder why things have changed so much. Things were different when I grew up.

 

Enjoy the new poem What Have We Done? and ask yourself if your life has changed too much to recognize.

 

 

What Have We Done?

 

Years ago when times were different

We had family to share our good times and bad

We all had precious little else

When we were joyful, or jobless, or sad

There were parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts

Living life with our children and children of theirs

The work was shared and diligently engaged and enjoyed

Because they were all family and all family heirs 

The children grew and later married

Raising their family two rooms down the hall

Now sadly the family who once shared the home

Is simply a likeness hanging proudly on the wall 

The grand child’s cries are heard when visiting

We see them play games upon a field

When once the play was with the grandparents

It is now with others and we sadly just yield

Growing old was once a reward

Of the life given and shared for years

Now at the end we are discarded, and forgotten

Living life with strangers to see our sadness and tears 

The security of our extended family homes

And growing old while rocking on our deck

And feeling the warm embrace of loving conversation

Has been replaced by a Social Security check

If we have been lucky enough to prosper in life

We live in well equipped and maintained facilities

But so many times and now so often we live

With family-heirloom seeking greed and hostilities 

We can change the course of our next generation

By simply making family unity and extension the norm

Or sadly the cherished generation we have raised

Will live in sad, soft green, and lonely, affordable dorms

 

9/7/10

JMW

 

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Talk of the Day – Attrition

At one time in my past I found myself a passenger on commercial jets more often than I ever thought I would. Something about sitting next to someone in the cabin of an aircraft brings out one of three alternatives: conversation, reading, or a need to sleep. My personal appetite most often was to read. Occasionally, however, I found the taste for conversation. Since my reading was largely historical subjects I found my conversations gravitated toward anything historical.

One flight found me sitting next to a native of the Commonwealth of Virginia. I noted, in my most historical reference I knew of Virginia, that Virginia was home to more of our nation’s Presidents than any other state. In fact, it was the home state of 4 or our first 5 Presidents and 7 or our first 12. All 7 serving their terms before 1850. The only other Virginian serving as President, number 8 from the Commonwealth, was Woodrow Wilson, who held office during WWI. I always found it odd that there were so many prior to the Civil War and only one afterward. My friend on the flight that day said something that struck me as so obvious. He said that the Civil War had taken most of the best and brightest as casualties of war, either by death or physical hardships. As a history buff I knew that 60% of the Civil War’s battles took place within the borders of the state of Virginia but never put the two features together as my traveler had been able to do. It made sense.

We have lost so many of our nation’s best and brightest in defense of it. The Civil War alone took more than 618,000 souls. Throughout our nation’s 235 year history the total cost of American lives lost to war exceed 1,315, 800. While that is a large number indeed, it pales in comparison with the world’s cost. The best, or most legible, figures available on world lives lost can be found at www.rationalrevolution.net. It tells a horrific story of great and tragic loss.

Why do I bring this up on Labor Day weekend at the outset of fall? I have no good reason other than it was pressing me. My love of history compels me to report what history has to say and those are the hard numbers of our cost of freedom here in The USA. How many great leaders have been lost you must ask yourself now. It is like looking at the finite number of seeds in an apple and counting them but never knowing how many trees, or future apples, lie hidden in the seeds you are able to count.

There is more to this story however. Now that we are in the right frame of mind, let’s look at another component to the loss of our best and brightest. I think I am safe in saying we have all heard the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword. How true that is now hits me like the Virginia Presidents issue did many years ago.

The US Supreme Court, on January, 22, 1973, in a vote of 7 to 2, set into motion a true national carnage. Over the next 37 years, only 37 years, our nation lost, according to the Center for Disease Control, 49,551,703 lives at the hands of the 9 Justices’ pens and the signatures of many attending physicians around our country. Legal abortion had arrived with a seemingly insatiable appetite.  

I thought this might be a good weekend to bring this to my blog. It is Labor Day weekend. Many chose not to go through the labor part of the birthing plan. This new poem Nameless Numbers came from this thought this past week. Enjoy it if you can.

 

Nameless Numbers

 

In the wake of our wild-eyed Asian war

We memorialized our fallen on foreign fields

We commemorate their dutiful sacrifice

And the posthumous honor it wields

 

We commissioned a wall of remembrance

Made of provocative reflective marble

We wrote books and stories and worthy songs

All holding them as subjects to marvel

 

They are our lost generation

Their contributions to our land now deprived

Our loss we now pine as a painful scar

Of loved ones when they were alive

 

But our nation has another lost generation

That continues from that time to now

Not lost in war but by the words of a court

Leading to many regretfully furrowed brows

 

Now ten times the number lost on Asian fields

Our nations wound continues to bleed

Treating the lost as no more than a number

Leaving no honor to praise for the bereaved

 

The courts decided by a seven to two vote

Clouding the issues or one’s rights and what’s wrong

The nameless numbers continue to mount

Chronicled in books and stories and song

 

No wall of remembrance or our nation’s honor bestowed

For the millions of our young now betrayed

We simply argue with slogans in our election cycles

While those who can’t argue are lost day after day after day

 

But if they could argue or cast a vote

They would surely reverse their plight

With words or votes or even weapons of war

The lost would surely lead an honorable fight

 

8/30/10

JMW

 

 

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Talk of the Day – The Deep, Dark Sea

 

 “He makes the deep boil like a pot: He makes the sea like a pot of ointment. He leaves a shining wake behind him: One would think the deep had white hair. On Earth there is nothing like him, which is made without fear. He beholds every high thing: He is king over all the children of pride.”

                                                                   Job 41: 31 – 34

 

“But the day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in which the heavens will pass away with the great noise, and the elements will melt with fervent heat: Both the earth and the works that are in it will be burned up.”

                                                                   2 Peter 3:10

 

Since man first looked upon the sea, man has wanted to cross it and see what is on the other side. Since man first looked into the night sky, man has wondered what there is to see once in the sky. Exploration, in fact, has been the catalyst for determining where we are in relation to everything else we see around us. We have always wanted to seek, knock, and open the doors of understanding. It seems to be our nature.

 

However, while two thirds of the earth’s surface is covered with water to explore, the ocean remains mostly as unexplored as it was when we first wanted to cross to the other side. Meanwhile, the night’s sky has been a much different matter.

 

Sputnik’s successful launch in October of 1957 set into motion, to date, 53 years of exploration. The United States alone has launched into orbit 178 manned space flights in the Mercury, Gemini, Apollo, and STS programs since 1961. The USSR was equally, and possible more, aggressive during the same period of time. Between them there have been 496 people who have reached 50 miles above the earth's surface and the number continues to grow. We have even had 12 men who actually walked on the surface of the moon. It seems to be our nature to explore the unknown.

 

While all this activity was happening above our heads there was far less exploration activity below the ocean’s surface. Not since the 1960 exploration of the Mariana Trench has man been lured to the bottom of the sea. The Mariana Trench, seven miles below the surface, is still the deepest known depth of the ocean. The dive of the specially made Trieste into the Trench remains the only attempt to go that deep. It settled on the bottom and remained there for less than twenty minutes at a depth of 35,810 feet. Conversely, time spent on the International Space Station alone exceeds 3,582 days at a height maintained between 173 and 286 miles above the earth.

 

What lurks at the bottom of our world is not clear. We have not been there nearly long enough to know. Why? Who knows? We do know that the ocean’s surface is vast. It could also be the subterranean cover for the vehicle of God’s ultimate plan for the end of our world as we know it. Lying hidden and undiscovered at the depths of 7 miles or more, in the deep, dark, sea, rests Leviathan. He awaits his marching orders. Unknown to man he is not a threat. He is not real in any sense of our definition. However, chapter 41 of the book of Job tells another story. Read it if you have not in a while. Then contemplate the possibilities. Whose definition of what is real or not really matters to what is actually real anyway. Leviathan awaits God’s command to show himself once more to man. This will be possibly on our last day.

 

Is this simply fiction? You decide. Enjoy the poem Leviathan. It precedes a future longer work to explore this very idea.

  

Leviathan

 

All that is created is part of His plan

We all play our role every woman and man

It is not our destiny to fully understand

But to do whatever that God will demand

 

We are told in the Bible the end will not be the same

It will not come with water but the heat of a flame

If God is unhappy with what we became

He will smite His world of what defiantly remains

 

How will this happen when it is time for the end

Will it be by our own hands as our lands we defend

On what course of our history will all this depend

To what moral depths will the world’s people descend

 

It is said that it will be as a thief in the night

When we hold our children or while turning off a light

When we’re sleeping, eating, or hold our spouse tight

God will do it Himself and show His glorious might

 

The agent of destruction is at this moment roaming free

He hides in the depths of our unexplored seas

Eight miles to ten miles cause a deep diver’s unease

And for this reason he lives where no one sees

 

God tells His story in Job forty one to the end

Of the creature Leviathan living untouched by the wind

Untamed by man with his life so easy to defend

God created Leviathan to live where no man will descend

 

The fire from his nostrils and the earth’s smoke-filled air

Will bring cries from earth’s corners and much despair

The end will come as a thief in the night as declared

God sees His world again beyond even His repair

 

Mighty Leviathan roams the depths our land

Awaiting word from God to fulfill His plan

That Leviathan be used as his destiny demands

To end the Earth with His one mournful command

 

8/21/10

JMW

 

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Talk of the Day - The Mosque

 

Long ago, our nation was formed with religious freedom as its cornerstone. We have the right, in the United States of America, to observe religious services of a wide variety of disciplines including such things as Satanism, agnosticism, and paganism. We are virtually limitless in our pursuit of religious freedom.  

 

Today, this religious freedom is being used to manipulate the building of an Islamic Mosque at 45-47 Park Place, New York, New York, 10004 – just four blocks from history. The location’s significance goes beyond its Lower Manhattan geographic location to being literally located in the hearts and minds of all Americans who remember September 11, 2001. I know where I was and what I was doing and I am sure you remember where you were and what you were doing as well. It is much more than a street address.

 

Ttoday, our religious tolerance is being asked to accommodate the exploitive gesture of an intolerant religious arm who tells our leaders that it is simply a street address for the exercise of their religious freedom. So far that is all the New York City’s third-term Mayor, Michael Bloomberg, and anyone else within shouting distance of a multitude of opposing voices, has needed to grant permission and construction permits. We all hear many voices of opposition to this project. Too many voices, in fact, to list in this limited space. However, they continue to oppose this venture ardently.  

 

Today, the compounding issue of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism grappling for control of the religious world’s ground zero at the site of the Golden Dome in Jerusalem threatens to move ground zero to New York City instead. Our nation does not need to be involved in the volatility of this issue. It is a religious problem with so many, many political ramifications. All of these issues focusing attention on terms like Jihad, Hamas, Hezbollah, Hagannah, and acronyms like PLO, JDL, and ACLU instead of terms like humility and forgiveness.

 

Today, I suppose the common denominators of the events we are witnessing in 2010 are religious issues indeed. All three of the religious groups accept the same God but not the avenue of approach to God. Some are still waiting for their Messiah, many have accepted Jesus and the Cross, and others have Muhammad. All three see the Golden Dome summit in Jerusalem as the focal point and something to claim as their own.

 

Today, all three look to 45-47 Park Place, New York, New York, 10004 as a battlefield for the bastion of religious freedom. This freedom is one to be exercised and not simply used for political purposes. New York is a big city with lots of street addresses for use in exercising religious freedoms.  

 

Today, I give you my humble answer to the dilemma as I see it. It is simple, and, yes, religious in nature. After all, it is the common denominator…isn’t it? The poem was written ten years ago but still, as poems should, resonates today.  

 

Truth Is Truth

 

Our sought after Savior

Our looked for redeemer

When finally had come

Was thought a deceiver

 

The truth is the truth

We need not look too far

The Messiah was found

Beneath a bright shining star

 

But…

Many times truth is hard to see

It surrounds us and holds us

Many times hard to perceive

 

But…

The truth is still truth

And in this simple fact

Truth was miraculously conceived

 

So don’t look for what we think

Our Messiah should be

We must seek what God

Has said He would be

 

From cover to cover

The Bible spells out

Who the Savior is

And leaves no doubt

 

1/25/00

JMW

 

 

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Talk of the Day - Employment and the Labor Line

When looking at the year 2010 over forty years ago I saw something far different from the reality I find myself in. There is unrest in the government, in our schools, in almost all aspects of our lives, but especially in our families. The coup de grace to any stability left from a much more stable time was swept away with the barren, cold- winds of a crashing economy, joblessness, and the very real brutality of unemployment. How, I ask myself, have we allowed ourselves to have fallen to lows across the economic board since, as writers like to say, the great depression, and, certainly since the mid to late 1970s.  

 

Although I am not an economist, even I can see some things which are contributing factors to all of this. Businesses are fearful of strategically making new hires due to the unstable future seen in higher taxes and the unfamiliar ground of health care reform. It is the perfect storm: fewer jobs, less expenditures by families, less tax revenue, consequently, fewer dollars to spend by cities and states on social and government services such as schools, fire, and police services. The storm clouds continue to build. The most recent statistics from the U.S. Labor Department’s Bureau of Labor Statistics show that jobs in the Atlanta area alone are down 1.6% from July of 2009. That is far greater than the fall of jobs nationally of 0.4%. Neither is favorable to a sudden bolt upward over the coming weeks.

 

There are many people around the country screaming alternatives, or at least voicing different ideas, on how to proceed. The answers are difficult to see in the storm. It literally clouds the view of those capable to chart a new course. But, I pray they persist and overcome a most critical time in our nation’s history. I am convinced that we have the capacity to change the current situation and grow from it. There has been much to learn from over the past 3 to 4 years that can be applied to the future to prevent circumstances from spiraling downward as they have again. Yes, as I said earlier, the view is quite different than I expected forty some years ago.

 

Why such a depressing piece even though the Braves are in first place, football is in the air, and fall and cooler weather is just around the corner? Honesty with my blog compels me to say that this is day 178 of my own jobless story. Outside of a few contract assignments over the past few months, which certainly helped, my tale persists. I ask for you to pray for me as well as the others in my same situation. It is cold out here in the storm. I need clear vision to find my way.

 

The following poem was written in the local office of the Department of Labor on July 27th. It was staggering to see the crowded office. It reminded me of those attempting to escape a sinking ship by boarding life boats to safety. People were vexed by the line and their impatience was in full view. The name of the poem is Labor Line. As you have heard me say, my poetry is my therapy. It helps me. I hope you find something in my words you can use yourself. 

 

Labor Line

 

Day 176 since being released

Finds me, sadly, still in a very long line

I see many others walking my same path

Each viewing solvency fall farther and farther behind

 

Interviews come and interviews go

Each teasing the relief they could bring

But younger, more educated, more qualified

Is the song each stop seems to sing

 

There has to be a place I can make my way

There has to be a place they ask me to stay

There has to be a way to hold debt at bay

Same song, sung day after day after day

 

Yet hopefully I look into tomorrow’s next day

And know things will change for us all very soon

But the last written line as I now reflect

Seems like words merely howled at the moon

 

I must recapture my optimistic capacity

To know the labor lines will surly soon end

But I know that this outcome is out of my hands

Because the economy is on what it depends

 

But wait…I can make a difference

Some words from my past I now remember

It is my rite and my citizenship duty to VOTE

And my next chance is the second day of November

 

Change is good sometimes and sometimes it’s not

Hopefully the next change will loosen the knot

 

7/28/10

JMW

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Talk of the Day - Election Day, 2010

Today is July 21st, 2010, one day past the last Democratic Primary and Republican Primary elections. It was the day to choose which candidate is allowed to represent each party in their given field of interest in the General Election of November. Those fields include races for state representation of our views in both local and national concerns. It was easily seen if you squinted through the reflective glare of aluminum road-side election sings for each candidate. It was the day we were able to choose. Yesterday was the day.

Today is the day we are either happy with our choices or we are concerned about how the choices of others will affect our lives. It always surprises me to see how few registered voters turn out to make these choices. For that matter, it always surprises me to see how few eligible voters actually register to vote. I won’t attempt to report the numbers but I will direct you to the website of the U.S. Census Bureau for the most accurate data available. I imagine it will surprise you as well.

Why so much voter apathy is unclear but voter uncertainty and a gradual erosion of trust in the process has much to do with it I think. There are checks and balances in place that are not being used to their optimal effectiveness. These checks and balances include many ingredients of an informed and motivated democratic republic. We simply need to know the truth about daily decisions, both locally and nationally, that truly affect our lives in the most personal ways. We need to be able to trust the information process in particular. Unfortunately our long time trusted information outlets are no longer able to deliver a message of what decisions are made and how they truly affect us. Deliberate or not, the messages are becoming less and less believable to a discerning and educated population. The job is not being done.

These thoughts led to the following poem, done yesterday, about what I think the issue is. I have served in the fourth estate myself and have had the opportunity to interview those in the process of government. At some point in the past, I can’t pinpoint exactly when, the process changed into an Orwellian chapter of our republic and I find it disturbing. The poem is meant for you to read and enjoy. It is also meant to be a call to think and discern rather than be fed what others want you to believe about current events and how they affect your life.

 

                                                  The Fourth Estate

 

Officially there are only three

On the governmental power tree

Executive, Legislative, and Judicial

As you can see there are plainly only three

 

These three keep government running

Two will say almost anything to keep returning

Every six or four or two years while the other is secured for life

As you can see the election cycle is stunning

 

But there are truly four legs to the table

And until lately this system was very stable

Not elected but trained as writers

Who must pass tests to show themselves able

 

The job of the fourth is to watch over the three

To show we readers what we are unable to see

The good, the bad, of the economy and more

But recently their words and other’s actions don’t agree

 

Without someone to tell us the truth of the day

We have no way to know what our votes should say

Each two years as we all go to the polls

We have no way to know who must leave or stay

 

It is a sad day in this land when the truth is twisted

To keep those in power from being resisted

It is a sad day when those who are not elected

Get to say whose voice is spoken and persisted

 

It is even sadder that we all watch and read news

From those writers hypnotized by administration views

Never saying what the consequences could possibly be

As they choose to pass pure fabrications to us as news

 

Awake and witness the table’s fall to the floor

Because there is simply no longer a leg number four

 

7/20/10

JMW

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 Talk of the Day - 4th of July, 2010

Greetings to all my old friends, it has been far too long since we talked. There has been an awful lot happen since January. An awful lot to talk about indeed but I wanted to stick to some thoughts I had over the 4th of July holiday we just celebrated.

 Independence Day, our birthday as a nation, signifies a great leap for freedom loving people the world over, now, and in 1776. At the risk of death, our founding fathers put their names on a document leaving little doubt of their intentions or direction they wished to steer this land we all have grown to love.

Some of the things that have happened since last we spoke have been disturbing to say the least. Some of them have been treasonous to the founding fathers intentions at the worst and dumbfounding, to present day citizens, at their best. Almost all of these events over the last eight months have been done in the name of change. It should be said that the events leading to the writing of our document of independence were also done in the name of change. Looking at the series of events leading to the courage of our founding fathers writing our Declaration of Independence then and the series of events leading to today, since the inauguration of our 44th President, seems ominously like looking in a mirror.

There seems to be a storm brewing and the winds will soon howl once again for the same cause as our forefathers put their lives on the line. My hope is we all come to our senses and resolve the issues that are driving us farther and farther apart before a cataclysmic event that could render us impotent and helpless fruit for a scavenger nation to attempt to take us over for their own. We have talked about this before. There is always going to be a war of one kind or another. I hope it remains a war of words and resolved by men of words and reason. This rift of philosophy can also be resolved by voters in the upcoming November 2010 elections. It is undoubtedly one of the most important elections of my lifetime as well as yours. There is much at stake. Peace in our politics, our states, our cities, our streets, and our homes to name just a few. Enjoy this new poem and see if it touches a nerve of action to resolve the rift before it resolves to spin out of control. After all…It has happened before.

 

Reconstitution

It is the fourth of July the year 2010

And I wonder …will we do it again

We wanted unwanted taxation to end

We wanted self rule to begin

And I wonder…will we do it again

 

We have faced many changes the last 234 years

And I wonder…are we now too full of fear

We wanted a vision of our own…very clear

We wanted to face death to hold it dear

And I wonder…are we now too full of fear

 

Change is often good, it keeps us awake

And I wonder…have we had all we can take

We wanted changes that we could make

We wanted change but not for change’s sake

And I wonder…have we had all we can take

 

We still hold truths to be self evident

And I wonder…is that true of our President

We wanted self rule and States rights in government

We wanted fewer framers and fewer departments

And I wonder…is that true of our President

 

That was all then and this is all now

And I wonder…dare we do it again

 

7/4/10

JMW

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 Talk of the Day - Martin Luther King, Jr. Day - 2010 

Today is January 18, 2010. It is our newest national holiday in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr. and his efforts to confront the blight on our social landscape of bigotry and racism. His efforts on behalf of racial equality between 1955 and his assignation in April of 1968 have made him not only a national icon but a worldwide symbol for free thinking people everywhere. His leadership in a time of unprecedented social upheaval is what we celebrate today. His message of unwavering disapproval of the status quo of the segregated world to which he was born is what we celebrate today. His bravery and courage under hostile fire from a nation which he loved and called home is what we celebrate today. It is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

 

How important he was to this nation we are only now fully appreciating. In fact, President Reagan signed into law the MLK holiday in 1983 but was not officially observed until 1986. However, the same groups and mentality that railed so voraciously against his message during his lifetime postponed a complete celebration of MLK day until the year 2000 when all 50 states fully embraced it. Now, in 2010, some are still not in full observance of the day or the impact of one man’s life.

 

The height of Martin Luther King’s influence could arguably be the August 28th, 1963 speech delivered to over 200,000 people on the Mall in Washington D.C.from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. It has become known simply as the “I Have a Dream” speech day. Although, in my mind, the height of his movement came in March of 1966 during a Voters Rights Acts march on Montgomery Alabama. Just as George Washington’s crossing of the Delaware River in the dead of winter in 1776 marked the beginning of a new nation’s claim to freedom to the world, Martin Luther King’s crossing of the Edmund Pettus Bridge near Selma, Alabama on the Jefferson Davis Highway leading to Montgomery signaled the end of unfair voting practices across the country and the emergence of a new nation of equality. This may have been his finest hour as the leader of the Civil Rights Movement in America.

 

It is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in America 2010. Take note of the change that has occurred since 1955 for everyone, not only black America but for all America. One man’s voice in opposition to unfairness can, and will always, make a difference to those who are being treated unfairly or unjustly.

 

The following is a poem which is running next month, Black History Month, in a publication called The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature.

Dedicated to Coretta Scott King’s memory of MLK

 

Oh Martin! 

 

Oh Martin…

…I have missed you so.

There is so much I want to share.

I know you saw what was happening

But I so wanted you to be there. 

We have made so much progress

In every social and political way.

In fact as you know dear Martin

You have many statues and even a day.

There are black mayors of many cities

There are blacks now as heads of state.

There is so much more I wanted to tell you.

I almost could not wait 

 

Oh Martin…

…You would have looked so strong

Standing on the new world stage.

I am so angry that was stolen

By a by-gone culture's rage.

The schools are all desegregated.

The home run king is now new.

Apartheid died in Johannesburg

And that changed many national views. 

There are so many of us now successful

In so many walks of life.

And I think the anger now is gone

For the color of another man's wife. 

 

Oh Martin…

…You missed so much change in our world.

Fewer now reside in the grip of fear.

But I know in my heart dear Martin

It would not even have happened…

…If you had not been so defiantly here. 

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Talk of the Day - Merry Christmas - December 23, 2009

It is the Christmas Season. We are hurrying from place to place, fighting huge crowds nearly everywhere we go, and we are all enjoying the carols sung and played on the radio while stuck in traffic. We are all determining the best Christmas gift to convey our thoughts to those we love. We all are eating way too much seasonal food, both at home and at our offices, and enjoying every bite. We all have festivities planned for our home, or someone else’s home, over the next few days and are excited about the prospect. We are all also anticipating what gifts will be given to show us how much we mean to others. Don’t feel bad about it…it is all part of Christmas. It is hard to shake the Santa experience when we get older and I hope I never grow too old to be excited about the experience. It is Christmas! It is the gift giving season so just enjoy it.

Again, it is the Christmas Season. It is a seasonal flurry of spending which revitalizes an often stagnant economy. It is the season which serves as a life buoy to small businesses, as well as large businesses, and provides them with the hope of an expanded, or merely acceptable, profit margin for the year. Christmas is, many times, the salvation of our entire capitalistic system. Sometimes I feel, I even lament, that the season has been created simply for this reason alone and we all act like Pavlovian dogs by drinking the Christmas Kool-Aid offered us by commercial interests. In this context Christmas is about salvation…as it should be contextually considered.

As I said, it is the Christmas Season. I stand firm on my commitment of enjoying gifts and in knowing that Christmas is about salvation of a system and of us all. However, my premise is not what I have led you to believe. You see, it is Christmas. It is a time of year I like to reflect on the precious gift I received 2009 years ago in a manger in Bethlehem. I was not there but I get to open the precious gift left in that manger each and every day. I get to experience the joy of salvation, not of the economy, but, of my soul. I have been given these gifts because God saw me as someone worthy of a precious gift. What a season it is indeed. I feel sure that at sometime during the next few days that one of the houses I visit will be the house of God with my brothers and sisters who have also been found worthy of a precious gift. After all, it is the Christmas Season. Enjoy it. And, be sure to say thank you for the gift.

The accompanying poem is regarding the birth and humanness of our Savior and how our world was changed in the twinkling of only a moment in time. We were all changed forever by someone who loves us enough to give us a gift as meaningful as a small baby and large enough to fill an empty tomb. Enjoy. Merry Christmas to you all.


Only a Moment

It was only a moment
On the time line of eternity
From God’s merciful gesture
To Mary’s immaculate paternity

It was only a moment
In God’s universal rein
One grand and glorious moment
To relieve our everlasting pain

In only one small moment
Eternity’s great galactic play
Had drawn the final curtain
On Satan’s final say

In only one small moment
Beneath the sky of her hometown
Little Mary of little known Nazareth
Conceived a Child of great renown

A Child who grew and learned
Just as you and I would do
A Child who grew and gave His life
To cleanse all and make anew

Only a moment in the realm of time
Is all it took, it had finally begun
A beautiful new course was charted
By the conception of God’s only Son

12/28/05
JMW

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Talk of the Day - Veterans Day                                              November 11, 2009

 

            We are truly indebted to those who have given so much for each of us. We would not be doing whatever we are doing today without the sacrifice of those willing to give of themselves on our behalf. They gave of themselves yesterday. They will give of themselves today. They will give of themselves tomorrow. We are truly indebted.

 

          Who are they? They are those who will do the unthinkable for a friend in more than trouble. They are those who bravely defend the opportunity to be criticized. They are those who watch for the unseen while we sleep. They are those who will walk where return may not be possible. They are our fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. They are soldiers, airman, seaman, and marines. They are the veterans of more than service to our country but of service to us as individuals. They are veterans of bravery and of fear, of self discovery and of self doubt, they are truly who we are so indebted to this 11th hour of this 11th day of this 11th month of the year of our Lord 2009. We are truly indebted.

 

          Who are they? They are those who will face absolute horror faithfully, defiantly, bravely, sacrificially, and with dignity and integrity of character never ask for our own sacrifice in return. We are truly indebted.

 

          The poem below was written not long ago about a southern soldier who was in the process of this service that we are so indebted to. His battle with the odds was many years ago but holds true today. There are trees out there somewhere serving the same purpose as those on the field of Gettysburg. This frightened soldier from a field long ago speaks today of the sacrifice paid today as then on our behalf. We are so indebted.

 

Reposed at Gettysburg

 

Reposed within the quiet grove

Drifting from the here and now to then

I listen to the tree frogs and crickets sing

As I remember horrors from the battle’s den

 

I hear the constant fire of muskets

As I lie here this quiet night

I hear the whistle of their discharges

As they make their targeted flight

 

I hear the cries of those unlucky souls

As their limbs seem to break and tare

I remember thinking I was so lucky

And how their outcome seemed so unfair

 

I see the smoke hover over the landscape

Like death harvesting the fallen field

I see young sons and fathers falling

Because their loyalty would not yield

 

I feel the fear of young men charging

Running gallantly up a hill

I feel the thrill and chill of knowing

I fight a blue wave and my will

 

I smell the odor of burnt powder

And the bark bare trees at hand

I smell the odor of burned grey cotton

Once worn and seemed so grand

 

I repose this night under treetops

I rest on this sacred ground

I drift in and out of now and then

And wonder where tomorrow…

I wonder where I’ll be found

 

8/30/09

JMW

 

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Talk of the Day                                                                           October 23rd, 2009

 

Today is the 23rdof October, 2009. Why do I state the obvious so auspiciously you may be asking? I say the date to establish a timeline in this dialog. Many things have changed in our great country through the years. In my opinion there has been no greater change than the change in attitude from the generation of my parents, and perhaps yours, who were born between 1915 and 1925 and the generation now.

 

          The 1915 to 1925 generation has been called the greatest generation of our nation’s history. This is said for valid reasons. This generation was raised in the great depression of the 1930’s. They watched their own parents scratch and survive in deplorable conditions as they were being taught their life lessons. They fought and won a great world war from 1939 – 1945 at a cost in lives lost of, although estimates vary, between 62 and 78 million people world wide. By far the deadliest war ever fought. This generation then turned around and produced, produced and produced even more making the United States of America not only the hallowed victor of WWII but the economic colossal that became the country we live in today. This generation knew how to work diligently towards a goal, sacrifice mightily for a cause, and appreciate greatly things earned. This was the generation that raised me and those I know and grew up with. Since then there has been a change.

 

          Now let’s go back to today’s date, the 23rd of October, 2009. There is a nationally syndicated drive-time radio program I listen to that on every Thursday afternoon produces a segment called Man on the Street interviews. An interviewer located at Grand Central Station in New York Citycalls people randomly to the mic to talk with the radio host. These interviews vividly paint the picture of attitudinal change in their exchanges with the interviewer. Invariably they proceed to outline what they feel are legitimate expectations for the populace to expect from our great nation’s coffers. They expect the government to provide housing, education, transportation, and of course health care. They seem to expect it as a guarantee to them for being in this country. These are the same things which the generation we spoke of earlier sacrificed for, worked for, and died for.

 

          More personally I can attest to the change. My adult life has been spent working with young people on several levels. I have been involved with youth athletics as a coach, a youth worker in church activities, and involved as a public school teacher on the Elementary, Middle School, and High School level, and now work with young adult students at the largest aviation maintenance training facility in the country. We have had a change in attitude. It started with my generation, raised in the 50’s and 60’s, and continues to deteriorate even further today, the 23rd of October, 2009. Expectations for personal guarantees and satisfaction are off the charts. Our last election in 2008 also points in that direction.

 

          Change in this attitude begins with the next few words out of each of our mouths to others. It begins with each of us to make a difference in this and the next generation.

 

          Enjoy the attached piece and pay attention to what we say and do as examples to those around us. I personally can do a better job.  

 

          Narcissinia

 

There was once a land of great promise

To deliver one from hopelessness to prosperity

Then oddly the land took a turn toward indulgence

Which brings us to today’s conundrum of disparity

 

The population exploded with personal satisfaction

From their cloths to their cars to their homes

Their eye was diverted from bettering society

To relieving themselves of whatever they bemoaned

 

I need, I desire, I’m compelled to have my way

No matter the expense to those they held in loving clarity

They needed, they desired, they absolutely had to have

No matter the cost to the great land or its severity

 

I want a big house, I want a new car, and I need silken finery

I deserve it, I’m entitled to it, and I will have it

These thoughts ran rampant through the great land

Until momentum magnified the mantra I have to have it

 

No thought of repercussions to the great land that they lived

No request from the great land’s bounty of plenty

Seemed too bold to desire or too shameful to have

To not expect the request to be their land’s top priority

 

Now with no one producing the things others desire

Only those who make requests with gainful expectation

There is a confused look of questioned completion

On the faces of an ever growing narcissistic population

 

Why can we not have at very little cost the things that fill our heart

What is the problem when all I want are the things that make me happy

Who will now tell us that these things are no longer there

When without them I am frustrated and truly unhappy

 

Now the once strong and fearless global commercial giant

Has the new name of Narcissinia at the behest of its once loyal occupants

The name was changed not long ago at the shock of a small minority

Because the majority wanted to stake their claim to their very own opulence

 

8/14/09

JMW

 

Talk of the Day
October 4th, 2009


The Piedmont Road Church of Christ in Marietta, Georgia, my home congregation, thrust itself into the matrix of infamy on Sunday, October 4th, 2009. The congregation’s evangelist, Neil Richey, had the audacity to discuss morals as they pertain to political correctness and each Christian’s responsibility to adhere to the high ground of the former. We, as a nation in the late 20th century and early 21st century, have lost our way. Our moral compass has been pulled hard to the left instead of north. Our moral integrity has been compromised by an over zealous left-leaning media, an over zealous left-leaning educational system, and an over zealous left-leaning judicial branch of the federal government. The result is not pretty nor is it congruous with the strong spirituality that guided this nation through wars, depressions, and social upheavals of all kinds. We, as a nation, have lost our way.

Our direction can be reclaimed by crusading in the not so foreign land of liberalism, effemination, and subjectivity. The crusaders are us. They are you and I. We can make a difference in so many ways leading our nation back toward a nation of spiritually based decisions. We can lead our nation away from politically correct decisions of appeasement to fragmented groups with their own socially retooling agendas. We simply need to say no. Say no and mean it in ways that will demonstrate resolve toward the more spiritually based goals of our founding fathers and our fathers of our own families in the not too distant past. We must simply stand and be accounted for.

The following poem is from my book Moments of Mine, 2009 through PublishAmerica, and I hope it resonates with you and creates a sense of empowerment to make changes for our future generation and adjustments in the way our current narcissistic generation views the world you and I live in, work in, and raise our children and grand children in. Enjoy and pass along what you feel is worthy.

States of Separation

Our forefathers landed on these foreign shores
To right the injustice of an over zealous few
They were resolved to remove religion as a state
And create something governmentally new

The Church should not say who is jailed or hanged
Their mission is salvation not litigious mitigation
And our forefathers saw our new land as a start
To rid the world of this intrusive governing situation

Now three centuries have passed and minds have changed
The governing pendulum has made a full swing
From the forefathers elimination of the Church State
To one of separating the Church from almost everything

No prayer in the schools, no prayers in public halls
In fact no prayers of any kind anywhere at all
No concrete right or absolute wrong
No sanctity of life or to a family to belong

Our forefathers never dreamed that their great experiment
Of creating a nation which was not a Church State
Would have ever evolved or descended as it has
To a nation lost on the path of having a Churchless fate

We need to pray in our schools and in all our halls
In fact we need to pray within any and all our walls
That we know right from wrong and to what to belong
Or our great nation we have will most certainly fall

We need to pray for the courage of our experimental few
Who saw what needed to change and what they should do
We need to pray for us all to have the courage of the few
To know exactly what we need and what exactly to
do

JMW
6/11/07

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Talk of the Day

Date: 9/22/09

Atlanta has seen record rainfall over the past 72 hours approaching 30 inches causing massive flooding problems, major road closures, and 7 deaths. Rescue efforts have been launched to find those missing or stranded due to floods. The weather has been unprecedented in both intensity and duration. Contrast today with days in our not too distant past. All this rain is on the heels of what has been a 3 year long drought in the area causing issues of water shortages and restricted use.  It is interesting to observe how we react when what we have needed for so long is given, especially in such massive quantities as in the rainfall of the past few days. These events and the contrasting days of the past reminded me of a poem written not long ago relating to what we are experiencing now. We need the rain. Don’t we?

 

 

We Need Rain

 

Chard, hard ground with spider-web cracks

Tells the tale of what a thirsty earth lacks

No smell of summer rain and no muddy tracks

No warm rainy weather to bring everything back

 

A stem with no flower is an incomplete sight

A farmer’s land too hard makes a very poor site

The reality of these things we can not fight

Too much sunshine is simply too bright

 

Like our cradle the earth, life needs a good rain

Our world without it creates nerve cracking pain

We need soft summer showers for our dreams to reign

We need rain for true growth…is our life’s refrain

 

We need rain to remember how sweet the sun

We need rain to remember all our outdoors fun

Like a walk in the park or a family picnic just done

We need rain to remember what makes these things run

 

Use all the flowers, just give them away

Rain helps the farmers to have another new day

Use the days filled with sunshine in a prosperous way

We need the rain to remember…how sweet the day

 

5/21/09

JMW

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Talk of the Day

Date: 9/16/09

Yesterday was a very special day for some. At 1600 hours on September 15th, 2009 on Briscoe Field in Lawrenceville Georgia, a fallen airman from a foreign field returned home. He and his chartered jet were greeted by his grieving family, an Air Force Color Guard, the Patriot Guard Riders, many from local area VFW Lodges, many law enforcement officials from several different communities, a couple of hundred patriots who just wanted to be involved, and a cool, light September rain. The Patriot Guard Riders, around 60 strong, all held flags in reverence for the occasion. The aircraft landed and taxied to a 90 degree angle formed by those in attendance. The airman was taken to his transportation home in Morrow, around 40 miles away, and his entourage left. There were TV cameras there to document the ceremony. The family wanted no part of the coverage and asked that they please not film the event. They did not. Reporters from local newspapers however did. When the assembly disbanded and went their separate ways the rain continued as did the conflict from which our fallen airman had returned.


September Rain

There are many things I do not know
About this day in mid September
But one thing I can surely tell you
It will always be remembered

Kalitta Charters slowly descended
From the darkened clouds off to our west
Greeted by an Air Force Color Guard
And many patriots displaying their best

Patriot Guard Riders and many VFW
Local Lawmen from the airman’s city
All viewing with a solemn reverence
The airman’s family now with pity

Flags unfurled and whipping in the wind
Everyone now standing in the rain
As our airman finds his homeward end
No longer feeling separation or any pain

Duty called and duly served
This September day now closes
One airman returning home at last
Soon to lie with cared for loving roses

9/15/09
JMW



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