Six Word Stories (28)

Have you ever noticed how beautiful a well made path is? It guides in one of the most unassuming ways.

“Please walk here. Yes, you are free to step away, but the way has already been made ready for you.”

The most beautiful paths enhance their surroundings, letting you explore without destroying.

We use paths every day. Be it metaphorical paths, or physical, we quail when they disappear.

But God has endowed humankind with the gifts of bravery and innovation. Are we willing to trust and take a plunge?

We problem solve, plan, build, create new paths with in the physical world.

Could it be what we create is a reflection of the paths God has already paved?

I hope one day when I get to meet him, I will find out.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photos sourced from unsplash.com

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Free

No one saw me
head to the ground,
feet to the sky,
pretending to fly.
It would have made you cry
hilarity.

A grown woman such as me
behaving as if three.
But just maybe,
you would have joined
the jocularity.
Felt free
to again be three.

Sometimes I take myself too seriously. This is just self reminder that it’s okay, and good to be ridiculously sometimes. Yes, the cover image is of my actual feet. I thought it was cute.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Butterfly/Art Highlight

Today I would like to highlight another work.

I painted this butterfly as a practice piece for a larger painting, for my Mother. One of her favorite things is butterflies. It was a huge test of my abilities as my first painting at home, and not in an art class with an instructor. The original is quite small, and was how I learned my natural ability to paint bugs. I find joy in the tinny details.

I chose to make this early work available at my Redbubble Art Shop for sentimental reasons. My family enjoys access to artwork that is meant for them, and being able to choose what products to have it printed on.

Butterfly, originally painted on canvas paper, with acrylic paints.

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Lava Worm

Was it a shriek of delight or fear? She didn’t know as it forced its way from her chest to the cavity of her mouth. A little heart pounded the rhythm of it as it bubbled into an audible note.

“Stay back. You can’t catch me.”

The floor moved. The carpet rippling right before her eyes. Its colours swimming and shifted, a living thing.

“Hurry!” the others yelled at her as they bounced up and down in excitement. “Its rising!”

She stood on her pillow, feet sinking into its marshmallow softness.
She danced like a cat.

“Now, May!”

Her body moved before her mind, responding to the call. The marshmallow softness was her downfall. Toes slid, the truth of its betrayal apparent in a second that stretched to an hour in a single heartbeat.

“No.”

White sock stained brown on the bottom touched carpet. Hands held before her broke the fall, and she giggled with gleeful horror as the waves of colour splashed.

“She’s done for.” The pain in Carter’s voice rocked her back to reality. His terror was exaggerated, but real.

Another scream bubbled out as her ankles were grabbed and the friction of carpet on prone stomach threatened a burn.

“I’ve EATEN you May!”

The blanket muffled the voice, rainbow patterns shifting with movement.

“You have to join me.”
“I know, I know.”

Her breathless reply held only a mite of disapproval. Her chest still rose and fell with heavy adrenaline induced gasps. She grasped the offered corner of his blanket, eyes sparking.

“The worm GROWS!”

They yell the words together. The trumpet of doom.

“RUN!”

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Ink Spots

bravery in pen work
truth of staining spots
tell the story of a heart
stocked by fear
but still uncaught

every stoke
a slash at past
seeks to sever
cords
that grasp

the only sword that has a choice
to further peace
through language voiced

still leaving stains
on those who wield
the heavy tool in open field

not blood
but ink is what it weeps
into fingerprints
it seeps

brave
to name this sword a friend
knowing well it will offend
yet again

and mark the poet at its end

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Grandpa’s Bee/Art Highlight

Today I would like to share with you all an early painting of mine.

Grandpa’s Bee was painted in memory of my grandfather, John Miller. He was a carpenter, farmer, and beekeeper.

I decided to upload this little guy at the request of some of my family members. I love how I am able to share him with all of them, though my art shop.

Flowers continue to be something I struggle with in my paintings, as as this is an earlier piece, it’s not my best. But that is okay. I am not about perfection, especially when there is meaning behind a work of art.

Grandpa’s Bee, the original, was painted on canvas paper, in acrylic paint.

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Six Word Stories (27)

I have always loved the simple things in life. A nice sharp crayon. A heavily weighted paper.

Yet the latter never belonged wrapped around the other, even in my child mind. I would unwrap each individual crayon so that the whole could be used for making my pictures.

As an adult, I am learning how to unwrap my own label and use all of me.

I would also look for the darkest part of the driveway, or church parking lot to scribble out my creations in calk. They just never looked as good on the light gray of normal cement slabs.

Contrast is still important. It helps us see details we would otherwise miss.

The way you look at things makes all the difference. It’s not about changing truths, but seeing what God really intents for each of us. If I believe he has had a plan for me since the dawn of time, then every mark, stain, and wrinkle has been accounted for. He WILL use all of them.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Self Control

To have control
or persevere?
Sometimes the difference isn’t clear.

Intertwined
as braided strands,
taking turns on who commands.

Stand in check,
Is this the way?
Will this, a bit of self betray?

Know the road,
make a goal,
continue on in self-control.

Or hold a line,
say not today,
anger will not have its prey.

Wisdom wields
both as a team,
for neither is the one supreme.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Arachnid Artist/Dwelling Literary

Today Dwelling Literary underwent a facelift, and their new issue BUGS UNDER THE RUG went live.

My poem Arachnid Artist was included in this issue. I have been enjoying writing for their monthly themes. Please take the time to visit their interactive homepage this month. My poem will be available to be read via their archived issues after June.

Thank you Dwelling Literary.

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Fahmidan Journal/Issue 6. Autoimmune and Mental Health Worriers.

I was honored to have my poem Splinter accepted for Fahmidan Journal’s 6th Issue. The themes for this issue is so important to share. As someone who deals with PCOS and mental health issues, it’s beautiful to see so many contributors coming together to bring some hope.

Follow the link to read Issue 6. Autoimmune and Mental Health Worriers.

https://www.fahmidan.net/issue-6