Bubble Hunting

A sheet of ice that spans the street, black like darkest slate.
From underneath water seeps, through clogged and rusting grate.
Bubbles trapped under ice dance despite the cold,
as little boots sliding fast can find no proper hold.

Back and forth, ghost like in sheen, the bubbles bounce and bob.
Weight is shifted up above. Stomp! That did the job.
One bubble popped. White rings are left to mark the impact’s crack.
How many can be caught and taught with a well aimed mighty thwack?

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Christmas Crystals

With dampness in the air they cling
to just about everything.
Every limb is painted white,
making night a bit more bright.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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December Night

Mantle of lights above my head
fixed on a map of midnight blue
shining silver blue and red
so close, yet eons over head.

They only wink with my own blink
a steady stream of glistening
shinning bright, yet light, I see
is all ancient history.

A vastness more than mind can hold
yet I behold December’s night
stand on my globe of living rock
that spins with the celestial clock.

Count the numbers, multiply,
as the universe flies by,
here I stand a single speck
in heaven’s sum.

December night clear, bright,
gifted glimpse of creations might
never a doubt in my mind
stargazing, meant to remind.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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He Keeps Me

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
Hold my chin above the wave

Lend me strength to tread the line
Close my mouth to deadly brine

Whether rescue comes for me
Or in death, I am set free

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
As I swim above the grave

Not a promised morning sun
Still, I know that we have won

He owns night as well as day
At my side, I know He’ll stay

I asked the Lord to keep me brave
Or to despair I would be slave

Though I’m weary of the waves
I thank the Lord he keeps me brave

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

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Remembering Grandpa

Original painting by Mary Grace van der Kroef

Remembering the smell of you
Sawdust, rich and fine

Remembering the touch of you
Prickly whisker hugs at night

Remembering the sight of you
Hands dipped in earth

Remembering the sound of you
Low, gentle, holding mirth

The card games played,
the things you made,
the books you read to us.

Did you know you
left these things?
Treasures, truth, trust

Remembering the things you taught
Gods generosity

Remembering is all I’ve got
Remembering you, loving me

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

King of Blue

Original painting by Mary Grace van der Kroef, on 8″ by 8″ canvas board.

In the early morning gray,
I see you.
In the trees that shed their leaves,
I see you.
King of birds of blue.

You’re a brightness in the morn,
clouds are filling up with scorn.
As bits of white fall,
you’re the brightest blink of all.

Heaviness is falling down.
Let it fall.
Building on the pointed posts.
Let it fall.
You’re still a king through it all.

Blue because of shifting light,
magnificent through winter white.
Unafraid to face the chill,
that amplifies your royal thrill.

Don’t fly away my Kind of blue.
I’ll look for you.
For the frozen months, remain.
I’ll look for you.
Jay of Blue, my morning view.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

Unbelieving Prayer

Stand on the threshold
the confessional of prayer.
Standing never kneeling
unbelief hangs in the air.

Say words despite feeling
no one is really there.
Recite the memorized
without feeling, love or care.

Tradition of a motion
learned while very young.
Hands to fold eyes to close
songs that have been sung.

Knowledge that was planted
yet never truly learned.
Leaves emptiness,
righteousness unearned.

Stepping from the threshold
time to make a choice.
Can you hear God calling you?
Or only your own voice

Unbelieving pray
I believe is still a door.
Desire for belief
a seed with faith it’s core.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

The Painter Reigns

God, do you paint the day?
Splash the colours for our play?
What about the bluest Jay?
Did you smile on his making day?

God, do you paint the light?
Bounce it off the moon just right?
Give us shadows, darker night?
Fireflies to ease our fright?

God, do you paint each life?
Murals filled with pain and strife.
Canvases scraped by a knife,
To add an edge, depth and life.

God, did the oils stain?
Your hands, feet, marks to gain.
Shows you as the artist reigns.
Would you paint this world again?

God, are you finished yet?
Do you over details fret?
Start again, while paint still wet?
Time to let the colours set?

What will the painting be,
When you’re done with all of me?
When you’re done, will we be free?
Then maybe we could all agree…

Thank you for this painted day.
Despite the pain, the delay.
In the end, you’ll have your way.
True colours put on full display.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

Present

How difficult to just be present,
live in the moment unrepentant.

Struggle to not look back or ahead,
but hold a single experience instead.

How difficult to turn off noise,
of a mind overwhelmed by toys.

Really hear the words you say,
have the desire to join your play.

Difficult, but impossible? Not,
when freedom is truly taught.

A conscious choice to carve out space,
from modern glitz, words that race.

A present self, a soul in place.
Let my mind be touched by grace.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

Emptiness a Beginning

Emptiness
a whitening out
blotting up the mess.
But left alone
it is a throne
of utter loneliness.

Emptiness
a freeing find
but only for the brave.
The clutter gone
now be strong
or line a bleached out grave.

In emptiness
it’s possible
for newness to begin.
Choose, create
or open gates
let possibility win.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020