Six Word Story (92)

They are designed to blend in. Placed under ledges and hidden corners.

Their messages wind their way through humanity’s busy crowds and we follow them, without realizing they are there.

It’s time to stop, look, and notice. Pay attention and use discernment.

Am I really following the right path?

Maybe we are and maybe we aren’t. Perhaps that answer is different for everyone… I don’t know. I think it’s okay not to know. But it’s still important to ask.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Titles by Mary Grace van der Kroef

Six Word Story (91)

Do you wear your heart on your sleeves?

Are you an open book to family, friends, and even strangers?

Some might view this as a bad thing, but is it really?

An open and honest heart is a beautiful thing. It means there is natural trust flourishing inside. The gates are not closed. A guard and a lookout are always important things to place at an entrance, and it takes practice to get the balance of open and careful right. But someone who can trust, someone who can share… Their halls are filled with light and trust me, a warm welcome doesn’t mean there aren’t exciting mysteries to discover while getting to know them.

I have often been called an open book in the past, but I found myself losing that natural trust in the last few years.

Today my prayer is we would all learn to once again open our gates and trust.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (90)

In my experience, life rarely unfolds in a straight line, or how we expect it to.

We wonder back and forth while wondering if there is a purpose to it all, and when will we ‘arrive’.

I have also noticed that the paths my elders have walked, have laid down pathways.

They make the back and forth a bit easier to bear. They assure me that others have walked this way ahead of me.

Even when I walk off the beaten path, it reminds me that my own footsteps are marking possibilities trails for those who journey behind me.

When I look down the steep hillside, I am thankful for all that back and forth.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from Unsplash.com

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Titles by Mary Grace van der Kroef

Six Word Story (89)

Was it an earth tremor, or children that climbed the wall day after day, waking its lines high above their word, dreaming of possibilities?

Was it the steady drip of rain that pooled in a crevice, then froze night after night, expanding, pushing the bricks, forming a hairline crack?

Was it overlooked?

Was there someone there to notice as the crack widened, allowing more and more water to pervade its strength?

There is no evil in the steady flow of time, or rain. Nor is it wrong for children to chase dreams. Life wares.

But, even strength needs to be maintained, supported, and repaired.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (88)

How does the environment affect our perception of the world?

Weather we want to admit it or not, it often plays a key role. This can be a good or bad thing.

Awareness.

Boundaries.

Bravery, to face the things we can not change.

Understanding we are also part of the environment, and we touch others just as they touch us.

Knowing our perception doesn’t always equal truth, but is still an important part of understanding.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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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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Pristine Floor

I turned it over in my hand
This broken piece
Of self
Traced the cracks
Noted the gaps
Counted the missing particles
Now marking
A pristine floor

A broom passed by
Grabbing flecks that soiled
This hallowed place.

Its bristles shush
My shameful grief
Watching
In silence

I should have protested
asked for time
Told my story
Before
This piece of self
Crumbled
And I was left to mourn.

Alone
Or so perceived

Untill
Generous Silence
Gave them back to me
Cupped
In recognition
Bound tightly
With the string of memories
As I prayed

He gave no rebuke
As bits poured into my hands
Losing fragments
Between hesitant fingers
He helped me count the loss
That again littered marble paths
Highlighted against its wealth
As human filth

He waited
Cupping tears that spilled
Adding his own to the soiled floor
Besmirched in regrets as thick as aged blood

Patient
He shushed the onlookers
Ready to jeer the fallen

Then I was ready
He pulled each speck to himself
Dirtying his own hands to lift my loss
Into his apron furled
It was him who shook my remnant free
Of any last dust
It was my King who carried my shame
Out the door
And when returned
Knowing it no more

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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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

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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

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Six Word Story (83)

Do you know the ache of honest work?
The burn of weary feet?

Do you know the sweet sensation of a deep pile carpet after work shoes are shed?

Without the ache, we would not know the release of rest.

May this weekend give you that rest your weary feet might need.

©2022 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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