Empty Footsteps

A trail of empty footsteps
all around is whiteness new
in those empty footsteps
are all my thoughts of you

In the softest flakes
that drift on breath to earth
I hear lilting whispers
reminding me of worth

Worth that can’t be measured
worth that won’t decrease
worth that’s my inheritance
it offers up release

As the empty footsteps
fill with weeping snow
again I am reminded
it’s you who truly know

Every longing fault
every triumph found
all mishandled
moments that abound

Before my earthly birth
before the turning age
you knew my entirety
including my backstage

No longer empty footsteps
we both are now abrim
tears of quiet gratitude
as I rims of puddles skim

© 2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Christmas Crystals

With dampness in the air they cling
to just about everything.
Every limb is painted white,
making night a bit more bright.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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December Night

Mantle of lights above my head
fixed on a map of midnight blue
shining silver blue and red
so close, yet eons over head.

They only wink with my own blink
a steady stream of glistening
shinning bright, yet light, I see
is all ancient history.

A vastness more than mind can hold
yet I behold December’s night
stand on my globe of living rock
that spins with the celestial clock.

Count the numbers, multiply,
as the universe flies by,
here I stand a single speck
in heaven’s sum.

December night clear, bright,
gifted glimpse of creations might
never a doubt in my mind
stargazing, meant to remind.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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Christmas Orange Collection

1
Sent permeates air
citrus juices flow and squirt
orange is happiness

2
Skin is pealed off
the tearing releases sun
morning just began

3
Lingering perfume
clings to fingertips soaked
glow without a light

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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He Keeps Me

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
Hold my chin above the wave

Lend me strength to tread the line
Close my mouth to deadly brine

Whether rescue comes for me
Or in death, I am set free

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
As I swim above the grave

Not a promised morning sun
Still, I know that we have won

He owns night as well as day
At my side, I know He’ll stay

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
Or to despair I would be slave

Though I’m weary of the waves
I thank the Lord he keeps me brave

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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Oneness All Our Own

Warmth of oneness all our own,
a wealth neither has ever known.

Together in a permanent
state under the firmament.

A oneness more than touch alone.
A choice made as love we hone.

Cultivate sustainable,
believing it attainable.

Our oneness growing, building, on,
as closer, we are being drawn.

Uniquely us, yet made to fit
together as our lives are knit.

As with knots, it’s never straight.
Oneness is our guarding gate.

No other two could ever be
quite like this oneness of you and me.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

King of Blue

Original painting by Mary Grace van der Kroef, on 8″ by 8″ canvas board.

In the early morning gray,
I see you.
In the trees that shed their leaves,
I see you.
King of birds of blue.

You’re a brightness in the morn,
clouds are filling up with scorn.
As bits of white fall,
you’re the brightest blink of all.

Heaviness is falling down.
Let it fall.
Building on the pointed posts.
Let it fall.
You’re still a king through it all.

Blue because of shifting light,
magnificent through winter white.
Unafraid to face the chill,
that amplifies your royal thrill.

Don’t fly away my Kind of blue.
I’ll look for you.
For the frozen months, remain.
I’ll look for you.
Jay of Blue, my morning view.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

Unbelieving Prayer

Stand on the threshold
the confessional of prayer.
Standing never kneeling
unbelief hangs in the air.

Say words despite feeling
no one is really there.
Recite the memorized
without feeling, love or care.

Tradition of a motion
learned while very young.
Hands to fold eyes to close
songs that have been sung.

Knowledge that was planted
yet never truly learned.
Leaves emptiness,
righteousness unearned.

Stepping from the threshold
time to make a choice.
Can you hear God calling you?
Or only your own voice

Unbelieving pray
I believe is still a door.
Desire for belief
a seed with faith it’s core.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

The Body, Mind, and Soul

“I’m tired,” said the Body,
to its brother, Mind.
“The pain within this shell
leaves me so confined.”

“I’m tired,” said the Mind,
to its sister Soul.
“The heaviness I feel
threatens my control.”

“I’m tired,” said the soul,
to its God above.
“The weariness around me
is muffling my love.”

“I hear you,” said the Father,
to his child’s whole.
“I see the toil and strife
is taking quite a toll.”

Then the father wept
He shared his child’s pain
Tears slid down God’s face
To mix with earthly rain.

It pooled in the puddles.
Scattered over stones.
It rang on ever roof,
in muted flowing tones.

A lullaby of grief,
harmonized with love.
Tucked child in
with night a woollen glove.

As the morning rose
to kiss the sky with pink.
Child’s eyes opened
and Body gave a blink.

Mind acknowledged pain
as Body stretched to sit.
But Soul still held its payer
refusing now to quit.

“I’m not quite as tired,”
said body to its mind.
Mind reflected quietly,
now with Soul aligned.

“I hear the prayer inside me,”
said mind to body’s pain.
“Even though this day,
will bring another strain.

I feel Father’s love.
I heard it through the night.
Soul remembers well
God’s goodness and His might.”

Though the body weak
It leaned on Mind’s new will.
Mind held on to Soul,
Still drinking in her fill.

From lullaby to bird song,
outside the windowpane,
God’s love was still flowing.
Its refrain would never wane.

“The will to carry on.
The strength to carry more.
Thank you, God, for holding me.
Show me what’s in store.
I long to hear you more.”

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020