The Art of Letting Go

I asked, “How do I break the chains,
Escape the dark, release the pain?”
The answer came both soft and strong,
“You’ve fought too hard, you’ve held too long.”

“In human form, we grasp and cling,
To every loss, to everything.
We fear to lose, yet fail to see,
Some weights will sink us in the sea.”

“Imagine now, your ship has sunk,
The ocean deep, your body drunk
On endless fights, on worn-out strife,
Still battling waves to cling to life.”

“But as the water pulls you low,
A whisper says, just let it go.
No more struggle, no more fight,
Just surrender to the night.”

“And in that stillness, peace is found,
The ocean sings, the fish surround.
The light above, a distant hue,
Yet darkness here feels warm and true.”

“No fear remains, just quiet grace,
As if in love’s most sweet embrace.
And when you wake upon the shore,
You find you’re whole, yet something more.”

“For in the depths where silence grows,
You touched the part that always knows—
The self untouched by past despair,
The soul that’s whole beyond repair.”

“The hardest step, to lose control,
Yet that’s the path to make you whole.
The fighter fights to stay afloat,
But freedom waits beneath the boat.”

“So trust the fall, release the past,
The storm will fade, the tide won’t last.
And in surrender, life begins—
Not in the fight, but what’s within.”

MarkWaldrop

The Soil

The soil is good for the soul,
A gift of life, both deep and whole.
With gentle hands, we sow and reap,
Harvesting blessings rich and deep.

The food it gives, so pure, so true,
Feeds the body, mind, and spirit too.
Golden grains and fruits so sweet,
A feast of love in every seed.

The rain may fall, the sun may shine,
But nature’s touch is most divine.
With every root and sprouting vine,
God’s own mercy intertwines.

So tend the earth with patient grace,
And you will find a sacred place.
For in the soil, both strong and free,
Lies the breath of eternity.

MarkWaldrop

Won’t You Be My Valentine

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Won’t you be my Valentine?
I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine.

Valentines are rare and true,
Friends so precious, far and few.

If you find one, hold them near,
For they will always be most dear.

They’ll love you through each joy and trial,
With God’s love shining all the while.

As time goes by, our hearts expand,
Yet parting’s touch we understand.

But when our Valentine must go,
It’s just a pause—we surely know.

For in God’s arms, we’ll meet again,
Together forever, in joy without end.

MarkWaldrop

Kindred Souls

Not the ones who speak alike,
but those whose hearts align,
find in silence, in a glance,
a language more divine.

Words may falter, fade, or break,
yet feelings bridge the space,
a touch, a tear, a knowing look—
the soul leaves its trace.

Beyond the borders words create,
beyond the tongue’s embrace,
it’s love, it’s sorrow, it’s pure truth
that time cannot erase.

For in the hush where voices end,
where echoes fade away,
two souls that feel the world the same
will always find their way.

MarkWaldrop

Just Be There

When storms arise and skies turn gray,
And words feel empty, lost, astray,
Don’t search for phrases, don’t explain,
Just sit with them and share the pain.

No need for sermons, loud or wise,
No fixing tears, no analyzing cries.
A silent presence speaks the most,
A steady hand, a gentle post.

For in the weight of grief and strife,
It’s love that softly mends a life.
Not perfect answers, bold or grand,
But simply being—hand in hand.

MarkWaldrop

Ready to Meet the Creator

No matter the way, no matter the time,
Life fades like the setting sun’s chime.
By nature’s hand or fate’s cruel tide,
One day, we all must step inside.

Some leave in slumber, peaceful, still,
Some by chance, against their will.
Some in battle, some in flight,
Yet all must face the endless night.

But death is not the journey’s end,
It is the door where souls ascend.
And what remains beyond that gate
Is set not by chance, but choice and fate.

So keep your soul, your heart made right,
Walk in truth, embrace the Light.
For none may know the hour or day,
When earth will fade and call us away.

Be ready, friend, make peace today,
With God who holds the final say.
For when you stand before His face,
Only His mercy will be your grace.

MarkWaldrop

Mat 24:36  "But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.

The Power of Presence

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Not every wound needs words to mend,
Not every storm needs light to end.
In darkest moments, lost and weak,
It’s not advice we truly seek.

A quiet hand, a steady heart,
A silent nod—a simple start.
No need for wisdom, grand or wise,
Just someone near, with knowing eyes.

For pain is ours, yet not alone,
A heavy weight not meant for one.
A touch, a glance, a soul so near,
Can chase away the deepest fear.

No need to fix, no need to speak,
Just sit beside me when I’m weak.
Your presence tells me I belong,
That even broken, I am strong.

So let us hold, let us stay,
In love that whispers, “I’m here today.”
For in the silence, hearts can mend,
And presence speaks what words pretend.

MarkWaldrop

Ernest Hemingway once said
"In our darkest moments, we don't need advice."

Roscoe’s New Friend

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In sorrow deep, he sat alone,
A heart so heavy, a world unknown.
Roscoe, young, with eyes so wide,
Had lost the love that once stood by.

No food, no light, no will to play,
His spirit fading day by day.
The hands that tried could not erase
The emptiness he could not face.

But fate had plans, unseen, untold,
A weary dog, so frail, so old.
Lost and wandering, tired and weak,
Yet carrying hope they both would seek.

A chance encounter, a bond so true,
A love that sparked, a life renewed.
No longer lost, no longer lone,
Together now, a place called home.

They run, they play, they swim with glee,
Two souls once broken, now set free.
Roscoe finds joy in his friend so dear,
A love that wipes away each tear.

Though life may take, it also gives,
In friendship’s warmth, the spirit lives.
For hearts can heal, and love will mend,
When found within a faithful friend.

MarkWaldrop

Carried by Love

On frozen peaks, where cold winds wail,
A mother goat began her frail tale.
New life arrived, so soft, so small,
But frost could claim them, one and all.

From a village near, a shepherdess came,
Her heart ablaze, her soul aflame.
With tender hands and a strength so rare,
She bore the mother through icy air.

Beside her walked a faithful friend,
A loyal dog, whose love would not bend.
With careful steps, it bore the child,
A fragile life through mountains wild.

The photo froze this fleeting grace,
A moment born of time and place.
Compassion shone through frost and storm,
Humanity’s light, so pure, so warm.

For in their care, the world can see,
The boundless depths of empathy.
A goat, her kid, a dog, and she
Together forged a victory.

MarkWaldrop

At Peace

My mind still talks to you,
In whispers soft, in skies so blue.
Each memory, a fleeting flame,
Calling out your cherished name.

My heart still looks for you, my dear,
In every shadow, far and near.
The echo of your gentle laugh,
A melody that splits my path.

But my soul knows you’re at peace,
Your pain and struggles now released.
Among the stars, your spirit soars,
Through endless skies, through open doors.

Though loss has carved this aching space,
I feel your love, your warm embrace.
In dreams, in whispers, you remain,
A bond unbroken by life’s refrain.

MarkWaldrop