He Names Me

Who am I?
The one that you see?
What she thinks of me?
All they note?
Or the thing he missed?

Who?

Guilty
That I forgot
Lost in the mess
Of others’ thoughts
Spewed at my feet

Why?

Untranslatable
From one mind to another
Labeled with others
Experiences
Self perceptions that tell lies

Where?

Is the truth of me
In this ever shifting nexus
Is it written down
In His book of days?
Was I

Planted

A vine that climes
Grabbing hold of His
Provisions
Both free and confined
To grow along the trellis of

His cross

When I reach the top
Will I know?
Intertwined and grounded
By Him, with Him,
I am for Him

Upheld

Blooming in my seasons
Existing, a separate being
Singleness, within the
Universe’s Whomb
Bearing fruits as He names me

Loved

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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My Search for Words

Is there a word that holds deep meaning for you?

I must confess, I have been struggling. The state of the world and the fear I feel flowing in the wind are oppressing my spirit. I keep looking for words of hope to meditate on, just single words I let my mind mull over.

Joy

Goodness

Hope

These poems were all born from that endeavor, but I find myself running low on ideas. If you have a word that sparks hope, or peace within you, would you share it with us in the comments?

I will do my best to write a short poem or reflection on each word you share with me.

Or maybe you have a word that weighs on your mind. Maybe it’s not oppressive, but you feel it’s important. Share it please.

I have been working on a small side project called Words of Weight. Once I have penned enough poems to fill a small chapbook, I plan to share it with you all for free. Your words are paramount to my finishing.

Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Hesitation

This heart has slowed,
longs to linger here,
where the past is distant,
the future unclear.

A hesitancy
to pick up life’s pace,
a straining to remain firmly in place.

Give me grace.

Unlike a crossroad
where choices must be made.
More like a settling,
a sinking in
of ways.

Smell the resignation
come wafting on the wind.
Stagnation that lingers
on boots,
and trouser hem.

Mix it with the drums.
Foreboding rhythms felt,
clashing with a heartbeat.
Wearied,
yet compelled.

Standing amid the street,
holding baggage fast.
Wondering
how long this lump in throat will last.

Change coming fast.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Six Word Stories (19)

Why is spring so fraught with rain?

Why does it pour and spatter and spit?

Dissolving snow and rinsing grime from my window pane, it’s like He knows the earth needs a good morning shower.

Or is it grief, a liquid love?

Does He weep for those who have fallen asleep in the cold shadow of winter’s rest?

Does He weep to awaken those who sleep in Gethsemane?

“Will you pray for me?”

The heavier the pour, the more of His tears I can hold to my heart.

I know He already prays for me.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo’s sourced from unsplash.com

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