Six Word Story (43)

Earth is home to many cycles. The water cycle, the air cycle, the earth cycle are among them. Systemes created to build, break down, reuse, and rebuild.

All of that grinding, melting, molding, fusing, is science’s magic of making one thing into another. While it all follows a pattern, it all looks like chaos. Such is life. Trust the pattern. I trust the one who invented that pattern.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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Shards of Heaven

In a moment
With a motion
Snapping fingers
Holding time
Hear a song
Slip away
Into a world
Of the sublime

Ask no questions
Of the quiet
In between
The rhythm snap
Let it’s pull
Feed the wonder
Giving answers
Meters map

Comes an ending
To the journey
Settle back
Into the skin
Taking with you
Shards of heaven
Memories
A dreamers inn

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Six Word Story (41)

Water is one of earth’s natural mirrors and puddles, the perfect place to start an adventure.

Do you view self reflection as an adventure? I would argue that you should.

Taking a good look at ourselves is scary. Is there something there we don’t want to acknowledge?

There are also many good things about ourselves we deny regularly. Self reflection doesn’t always have to be about our failings. Don’t be afraid to look in a mirror, or a puddle, to see the character that lines your face.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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Six Word Story (39)

Is it sinister? Or two sisters bearing their souls to one another?

Meetings that stretch out for hours.

Car discussions that don’t stop even when you reach the driveway.

Prayer meetings that last into the wee hours of the morning.

Band practices that don’t have an end time.

Yes, sinister things are planned under the cover of night. But evil doesn’t own the shadows. God lives there too.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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Purple Stain

This one shrivelled.
That one plump.
In a rush as I sort the circles.

Pluck a stem,
one is smashed,
mold has grown.
Remove before decay infests
the rest.

Tip toeing through
my morning test of time economy.

Juice runs
purple and sweetness.
Marking the edge of fingerprints.

Box packed
with noon time edibles.
Ready for the day.
Wave goodbye.
The purple stain remains.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Six Word Story (38)

They are small, they are fierce. Why do we underestimate them so? Why do we deny they are reflections of what still lives deep inside of every adult heart?

Cherish those hearts, be they in the bodies of 2-year-olds, or in full-grown adults with all our learned coping mechanisms. It’s never too late to be brave.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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Six Word Stories (37)

I am so small, and that climb is so high. There is no railing.

What makes the difference? A guiding hand to help me hold my balance and keep me from filling backyards while I take one step at a time.

What if I can not find that hand? What if I am alone? What if no one, will help me?

I still can, even if it’s on hands and knees. I won’t give up, I won’t turn back.

But how I pray for that one hand.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from Unsplash.com


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How do You Catch a Cloud

How do you catch a cloud
and pin it down?

Or corner a thing
that floats in wisps
ethereal wings?

Raise a hand and feel it weep,
cold drops to
spatter feet.

What heart could
pin it so,
speak the chastising word, no?

A nature not
made for earth.
Still waters hearts with tears of mirth.

Even when billows build,
muddled air, heated, then chilled.

Particles, a dancing clash
building energies full blast,

to strike the hand, pin poised.
A nature feared
also enjoyed.


You could never win.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Inspiration by:
‘Maria’
by Oscar Hammerstein II and Richard Rodgers


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Six Word Story (36)

Do you thrive in the quiet? Or in the none stop rush of the spinning world?

Each element has its own worth, and we can find each within the other if we look closely.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

Photo sourced from unsplash.com


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It Would

It came skipping
in exuberance unchecked.
A child with something to say.

It left,
deflated.
Dismissed by the one it would engage,

and aged.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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