Gocking eyes
read your lines
In drive by waves
from metal mines
Bare a soul
ripped wide
So metal mines
can drive straight lines
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Out of the sustaining cycles of life, the water cycle is one of my favorites to think about.
Every drop in the ocean would once have been rain that every flip of a fin stirs, and every current shares with the whole earth.
The beauty of our word is memorizing.
I see intent and intricate planning in its design. This belief doesn’t make me afraid of science, as some people think of those who are religious. No, it lends me a joy as I contemplate the puzzle pieces.
But I am also a dreamer, not a scientist. Still, the thought of ‘what if’ pulls at my heart, maybe close to the same way as it would for my calculating brothers and sisters?
What would it be like to ride those vapors?
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
Young, still growing, still learning, still gaining strength. We call it a bud, but it is still a flower.
It guards itself until the day God whispers reaches it though natures script.
“Its time.”
Then, petal by petal, it opens. I wonder…
Does it hurt? Is there relief? Are there such things as introverted or extroverted flowers? Either way, we wait in anticipation for them to be ready.
People are a lot like buds…
Are you ready? Even if you’re not, you are still beautiful.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo Sourced from unspalsh.com
Nothing gets done unless someone is willing to get their hands dirty.
In the western cultures we admire cleanliness, and the modern way of life. But underneath the white walls, and pavement, is the evidence of people who wheren’t afraid of a bit of dirt.
Art making is no different.
We paint, we sculpt, we gather, and glue. A writer creates a ‘dirty draft’ before shaving away exes prose and blowing the fragments into the waste bin at the back of the mind.
We can not remove the muck of ‘making’ from life.
It might be dirty, but it’s beautiful.
I, for one, am thankful that God himself was not afraid of the dirty work of making.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroeft
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
They are a comfort. They tell us someone took the time to fix us up. Sometimes, they come with a kiss.
Bandaid, we wish they could fix everything, don’t we? We run around slapping them on every scrap and bruise like a three-year-old. But in reality, they are not always enough. They can hide the real problem.
Don’t let a bandaid fix keep you from healing. But also, hold dear every kiss they come with.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
How thirsty the earth is in drought.
But that thirst is only quenched when dark clouds form, and sprinkle us with tears.
Futile regions know a healthy share of gloom. Still, they are lush, despite the lack.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
Once, when I was little, I asked my dad what had happened to the forest as we drove through the Northwestern Ontario wilderness. The trees looked ugly and sad. Dead black things standing in silent testament to what once was.
Did you know that the black earth hides life? All we see is destruction, but the earth knows it as time to renew.
“The forest will grow back full of new life and food for the animals to eat.” Dad told me.
It can be the same with people. Don’t look at your burn out plots as lost. See them as places to grow new love.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
I have been waiting with great anticipation to be able to share this publication. Heart of Flesh Literary journal is a publication I have been following since the beginning of my writing career, and they have been a dream publication for me.
This last week Issue Seven went live! My poems “Omnipresent” and “Things Made” have been included in this issue and I pray they bless you. They are available to read for free, accompanied by audio readings.
Print copies are available for purchase if you wish to support the Heart of Flesh Literary Journal.
Mary Grace van der Kroed
– Feature art by Veronica McDonald, Heart of Flesh Literary Magazine. –
Is it the flower, or the old car that is sad?
Perhaps they weep for each other as brothers in this world where all things have a beginning and an end.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from unsplash.com
Have you ever pulled a plant out of those flimsy plastic pots they start them in at greenhouses and garden departments? It always scares me when I do.
What if I damage the flower? What if I damage roots as I pull it from its home?
But the truth is, that little plant NEEDS to be pulled from the plastic, and planted in good earth. It won’t thrive confined like that, even surrounded by its siblings. That plastic tray was made to only be a safe starting place.
Don’t stay in your plastic pot. We are meant for so much more.
©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef
Photo sourced from Unsplash.com
Mary Grace Writing 