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Poems that send dartsđŻto touch our heartsâ¤ď¸
In the glow of twilightâs gentle grace, Where shadows merge and daylights face, A lesson etched in timeâs embrace: The act of love, a sacred space.
Jesus, in His earthly tread, Washed the feet where others led, Friends and foes alike, He fed With love that words have scarcely said.
No ego shadowed His intent, No hate within His heart was pent. He served, so humbly bent, A path of love, divinely sent.
How then, can we this path pursue? In daily deeds and visions true, To wash the feet, in metaphor anew, Of friend and foe, to loveâs hue.
To see beyond the veil of strife, The hurt and pain that cuts like knife, And offer from our own life, A momentâs peace in worldly rife.
Let kindness be our guide, our light, In actions small or gestures bright. To lift the shadows of the night, And hold each other, oh so tight.
For in each act of love, we find The essence of the divine mind. A call to leave no one behind, To love all neighbors, humankind.
So may we walk this path with care, With open hearts, willing to share, The love that Jesus came to bear, A love expansive, rare, and fair.
Beneath the vast, awakening sky, Where dreams roam free, and spirits fly, An Arizona sunrise begins to unfold In hues of crimson, amber, and gold.
The desert whispers in hushed tones light As stars fade gently into the night. Cacti stand tall, silhouettes cast; in the fleeting moments, night is surpassed.
Mountains grasp the first rays of day; in their rugged arms, light comes into play. The horizon blushes, a radiant smile Casting its warmth over every mile.
Skies painted in a vibrant array, A masterpiece born at break of day. Birds sing in chorus, a symphony of life, Welcoming the dawn, dispelling strife.
A gentle breeze dances through the air, Carrying promises of stories to shareâan Arizona sunrise, a moment so divine, A daily reminder that the world is thine.
So here, beneath the wide, azure dome, Weâre reminded of the beauty of home. In every sunrise, thereâs a new chance to say, Today will be a beautiful day.
In the silent hours of contemplationâs realm, Where thoughts like mighty ships take the helm, There lies a truth, both stark and bare, âFailing to prepare is preparing to fail,â they declare.
Upon the canvas of the night, stars in alignment, Whispering secrets of success and confinement. For those who in foresightâs garden gently tread, Harvest dreams alive, not shadows of dread.
A lesson taught by time, ancient and wise, That only the prepared meet the sunrise. While others sleep in the bed of procrastination, They wake to the storm of missed realization.
Itâs the weaverâs loom, the builderâs square, The navigatorâs map, through fog and air. A principle, simple, yet profound, In every endeavor, let preparation abound.
So gather your tools, your plans, your might, Under the moonâs soft glow or the sunâs bright light. For the path to victory, narrow and steep, Is found by those who sow, while others sleep.
In this world of chance, of chaos, of storm, Let preparation be your standard, your norm. For in its embrace, youâll find the grail, And remember, âFailing to prepare, is preparing to fail.â
In the morning light, âneath mountains tall, A word once foreign echoed a call.âHillbilly,â they said, with a sneer, a jeer, A label that brought neither joy nor cheer.
My brother returned with stories anew, Claiming that title for us, the mountain crew.âDumb, stupid, ignorant,â definitions came, But we knew our worth, our spirit untamed.
An insult to those who rose before dawn, Treading paths untrod, faces weary and wan. To the miners and loggers, their strength never fades; to the women, their resilience never sways.
Carrying water, scrubbing clothes clean, Hoeing fields, unseen, yet serene. After childbirth, returning to toil, Their spirit, their love for the soil.
A mockery made by visitors, blind To the hard work and ingenuity theyâd find. Laughing at poverty, speech, and ways, Ignoring the brilliance that deserved praise.
Yet, weâve evolved, caught up in the race, Losing bits of ourselves, our unique grace. But hear this call: to be true, to dare, Embrace your roots, let down your hair.
Paint, write, revive old mountain speech, Cook soup beans and cornbread, a lesson to teach. Fish for catfish, seek hickory nuts in glades, Be your true self, let not the old ways fade.
So today, embrace your past with pride, And tomorrow, let that truth inside. For in being ourselves, we honor those before And bless our souls forevermore.
In the realm where faith and certainty converge, A path illuminated by words softly spoken, âJesus said, âI come that you may know,ââ A beacon for hearts, once lost, now woken.
Believing is a journey through the night, A trust in whispers of the unseen, A leap into the abyss, guided by light, Where doubts are shadows and hopes glean.
Knowing, a dawn that breaks with clarity, A sun that rises, dispelling all fears, Itâs standing upon the rock of reality, Where truths are unveiled, and God appears.
For belief is a vessel, sailing on trust, On oceans deep, under stars unseen, But knowing is the shore beyond the gust, Where feet touch ground, and souls lean.
âI come,â He said, âthat you may see,â Beyond belief, into the embrace of knowing, Where faith and sight in harmony be, And in His light, our spiritâs glowing.
So let us journey from belief to sight, Where His love unveils the eternal dawn; in Jesusâ name, find the greater light, And in knowing Him, we are reborn.
April 1, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the quiet chambers of my troubled heart,
I lay my disgust, from me, apart.
In the hands of the Divine, I place my trust,
For in this world, discern, I must.
Judgment is not mine to cast or wield,
For the heartâs true nature is often sealed.
From the outside looking in, my vision blurred,
Only God discerns, without a word.
He sees beyond the facade, the masquerade,
To the essence of souls, in light and shade.
With mercy and grace, He understands,
The hidden pains, the silent demands.
In this realization, I find my peace,
Letting go of judgments, allowing release.
For in His trust, my burdens lay light,
Guided by faith, out of the night.
To see as God sees, a gift divine,
To love without judgment, a sign.
That in the hearts of all, thereâs more than we know,
And in Godâs trust, compassion can grow.
March 31, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
In the garden of scriptures, we wander, eyes alight,
Gravitating to blooms that please our sight,
Roses of comfort, lilies of peace, in radiant array,
Yet passing the thorns and nettles along the way.
We choose the path of least resistance, itâs true,
Drawn to what sparkles under the morning dew,
Ignoring the growth that comes from rain,
And the wisdom found in embracing pain.
But let your heart, your soul, lead the way,
Through both the night and the brightness of day,
For in every line of sacred text, thereâs a lesson to find,
A balance of heart and challenge, intertwined.
Embrace the scriptures in their wholeness, let them guide,
Let them be the lamp by which your steps abide,
For in the challenge, thereâs a beauty unseen,
A strength to be gained, a depth serene.
So, as you walk through lifeâs ever-changing tide,
Let your heart and soul, in faith, confide,
For every scripture, every line,
Holds a truth, both human and divine.
March 31, 2024
Created by
MarkWaldrop
