His Dream

I was a thought
before my birth.
A dream He spun into the mathematics of time.

As the universe floats
in a consciousness beyond
human understanding,

He still dreams of me.
My days.
My ways.

For He loves all His dreams.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Layers

Layering,
building up of stuff.
Stuff that’s warped and ground and rough.

Bits and pieces piling
in uneven gallantry.
Mountains forming valleys as parts of She.

Terrain shifts,
rips with violent quakes.
Foretelling of eruptions coming day.

A living, growing orb.
Spewing pressures liquid rock.
Building high ranges, a guard against winds plot

As rocks form,
windward weather rages.
Jaded earth is watered, flourishes in stages.

Climb the crags,
find passes high.
Leading on to landwards slops brittle, bare and dry

Wonder past the grass lands
sheltering beneath.
Hear the whispered love songs riding on Her breeze.

Landscapes ever changing,
built by a liquid core.
Created for exploring while she lays one layer more.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Life Saving Poetry

Bypass lips, and tongue, to ask a soul a question. The answer you will get is a journey.

My friend John at Thoughts, Dreams and Enigmatic Things blog asked me to write something he could share on his own blog. I was honored when he asked, and had to take a good long think about what I would write. After I started writing I had to stop, and think again…

I am not sure why, but an episode from my favorite TV show, MASH, kept coming back to me. In this episode, Father John Mulcahy takes a trip up to the front line with Radar to pick up a wounded soldier. On the way back, the injured man chocks and stops breathing. The Father has to perform a tracheotomy on the side of the road, with the surgeons from the MASH unit guiding him over the radio. The procedure is a success.

Well anyway, that bit of remembering prompted this reflection.

Like a tracheotomy, the writing of poetry lets me breath while I choke.

It’s an invasive cutting, digging and searching through self.

Often its prayers whispered in pain, or shouted silently inside my brain.

Always, it’s a breathing out of questions.

I strive to make poetry, all that is worship. Not worship of self, but of the one who does the cutting and inserting of my breathing straw. The one who hears the silent words, the whispers. The one who writes the poem of me, for His, the author’s glory.

Thank you for asking me to think, John.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.
Mary’s Redbubble Shop

Six Word Stories (14)

The last few months have forced many of us to become all too familiar with ourselves. We have had time to think and think some more. This can be a good thing for people who have neglected themselves, forgetting how to listen to their own voice. Listening to self is important, but it should never be the only voice we seek.

When our world changes, and we are forced to be outwardly silent, may God be able to break though the madness of our own minds and bring his peace.

When this storm has passed, we will all have leaned much about ourselves. Be it rain, or early morning dew that collects on the threads of self, let it show the things we have forgotten.

May it teach us things we have never known before.

Through it may we persevere together with the people we hold dear. Holding on to love, and the one who loves us the most.

The cord in this image could represent many things. For me and mine, it’s God.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photos sourced from unsplash.com

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.
MaryGWriting.redbubble.com