Six Word Story (86)

Some say Mother Earth and Father Sun. If that is so, then I see Earth as the flirtatious one.

She dances through the nether in living finery of every shade.

I wonder what the rest of the galaxy thinks of her?

She is far from the most powerful. But she is a home, a place to rest.

She is neither tame nor safe. Even so, we cling to her for dear life, pressed to her bosom.

Father Sun is ever her constant companion, unmoving. He lets her dance. Ever patient.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (82)

I remember my red balloon. It was heart-shaped with ‘Happy Birthday’ printed in white letters across one side.

I loved that balloon.

Unfortunately, my parents’ living room ceiling hated balloons of all kinds.

“Hold on to the sting, Mary.” I was told.

But, In the middle of childhood games and enthusiasm I let the string of go and in a startling second… That balloon burst as it touched the brickly popcorn surface.

Now I have a new balloon. But I have learned my lesson. I won’t let my dream touch that prickly ceiling…

How about you?

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (81)

We have learned to fear silence.

The loneliness, the lack of progress.

When we learn to stop our chatter, pause our industry, we will hear what lays underneath what we fear.

The beat of our hearts, the breath of life, the creaking of growth, the groaning of decay.

When we sit with that thing, we fear, we learn what life really is.

In the learning we find new ways to sing and build around silence.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (79)

The fall to earth is never strait, or predictable.

For a while they hold fast, grow, preparing for the fall. A fall that’s inevitable.

We all fall.

I pray when I finally land, others will say I fell with grace.

And when I rest, it will be in fertile soil, in which to spread new roots.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (78)

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

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Six Word Story (77)

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

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Six Word Story (75)

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

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Six Word Story (74)

There are special people in this world that thrive in the background. Do you know one?

They know how to work with their hands and make things happen.

Or say just the right things to light up the darkness before melting back in to the shadows.

Are YOU one of them?

If you are… Thank you.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Six Word Story (73)

Though cracked and dry, the riverbed is still there.

The broken boat evidence of past actions.

Our hearts? Can they still hear the whispers of the waves? Can we still praise in the drought?

It’s hard, but nature doesn’t forget past blessings even as the landscapes change. The earth buries its evidence in layer after layer of newness.

I will try to sit, be silent, and remember the sound of waves lapping the shore. I will remember past blessings. I will praise.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (72)

Interruptions. Changing of plans. We rarely look for those things, but if you know anything about river adventures, you know that a portage is often unavoidable. What do you do when you find a proverbial canoe on your shoulders, instead of in the water where it belongs?

Keep walking, carry a good compass, bring a friend along to help with the load.

These are things easier said than done. When your legs ache, when you’re tired and it’s dark and you can’t read your compass, when you and your partner find verbal combat easier than carrying a canoe… In the middle of at a portage doesn’t always seem like an adventure, but that’s life. We don’t always recognise the adventures we are on when we are standing in the middle of them.

Perspective. This is my reminder to remember and check my perspective.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com.


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