Six Word Story (97)

Life is a grinding down of moments, of mass.

Nature takes those fragments and transforms them into something new.

This happens with people too, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

It’s so hard to see past the decay, the destruction.

But if we are brave enough to try, if we trust God has a plan in the middle of grief, we will be shown immeasurable beauty and potential.

He made nature this way for a reason after all.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Titles available by Mary Grace van der Kroef

Morning Snow

Morning Snow by Mary Grace van der Kroef

It may be dark inside,
but without it’s strangely light.
As the world lay sleeping,
nature donned a blanket, white

Though the sky is thick,
with heavy clouds of gray.
The early morning darkness,
is lightened by winter’s play.

I sit in my dark room,
watch the lights return.
Black to gray, with blue and white.
the seasons complete a turn.

Off in the distance,
past trees and lake, there’s more.
Under clouds horizon peaks
a glimmer over the far shore.

It was white and bright but brief
as if the sun is shy.
It’s been a while since winter played
beneath a sun-filled sky.

So she’ll stay behind her clouds,
soften down her light.
This first encounter, not the time,
she’ll savour her delight.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2019

Written at Falcon Trails Resort on October 12, 2019. The morning after the first snowstorm of the year.

The photo is the sunrise view from the chickadee suite.


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Autumn’s Song

Listen to the crowning leaves
Their glory days proceed with ease,
The wind gives to them a voice.
They shout, with shaking leaves, rejoice.
First time snow has run away
Autumn has another day.

Leaves of gold shimmering shine
Their dying days a heaven shrine
They do not weep as down they fall
They lay their royal carpet for all
And all can play in piles of gold
Rich or poor, young or old.

Soon their gold will turn to brown
But in their cries there is no frown
It’s well known they’ve earned their rest
A golden crown marks them as blessed
The first time snow has come and gone
So autumn sings us one last song.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2019


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Titles by Mary Grace van der Kroef

Maple Red

See new blush upon the leaves
Slowly spread
Deepening as it flows
To maples deepest red

Perhaps we humans stole these shades
For moments, soft and close
Painting cheeks as we embrace
Those we adore

A tribute to nature’s love
That depends woody roots
While releasing laughter’s leaves,
Nourishment through winter’s silence

The first sign of this acceptance
This dance that nodes at death
The evidence of time’s ministrations
He flirts with nature’s chilling breath

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

One Harvest Moon

It’s 5:30 am.

Mr. Moon is peering through my window.

Wearing his harvest glow like a luminous gem.

Pulling the clouds around himself like a soft collar.

Dipping beyond the tree’s top most branches.

Casting limbs and lingering leaves into dark silhouette.

It’s 6 am.

The tinny child at my side sleeps.

October’s chill shielded by our shared blanket.

Mr. Moon, don’t wake her again.

It’s 6:30 am.

The sky is deepest navy blue.

Mr. Moon, your framing glow is dipping low.

It’s almost time to say goodnight.

My day starts with a sleepy blur.

I can almost hear a murmured purr.

“Goodnight little Mother.”

How can I be upset?

Dressed in his best, yet lonely.

It’s 6:45 am.

Navy turns to dusky blue.

I have almost lost his golden view.

His exit bringing frosty fog that creeps and crawls.

It’s 7 am.

Sky now misty purple.

How I wish he’d come again.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Rock Sentinel

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


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

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

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Six Word Story (85)

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


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Six Word Story (84)

There is a beauty like no other when it rains, each drop its own little world until it touches down.

What must it be like to be separate as you fall to be broken apart across pavement? Never ceasing to be what you are, but to have your world change so drastically as you slide down hill, finding a crack and joining the soil. Remaining what you are, but also changing.

What must it be like to touch down upon the sea and join an uncountable multitude of life? Something with sound and molecules invisible and unheard by the human world?

That fall, that union, vital to our existence. Without it? We wither.

Each single drop, so important.
But alone, never enough.

Only embracing togetherness of different kinds does water nourish life.

…like people…

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Stone Murals

Sharp edges
Multicolored pores
Showing off scars
Human endeavors

Broken stones
Blasted wide
Essence laid bare
In cascading lines

Painting a mural
History past
Our earth bleeds colours
Painting murals that last

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.