Joy

Found in simple spaces
when lights have dimmed to ease
weariness of day from shoulders prone.

In the morning beams
where radiance sings
reserving stage for feathered accompaniment notes.

Shimmers in the shadows
like the fuzziness of heat,
but greats in bells that chime with chirping mirth.

Often hid amid
wide open space
blending with a magic you can not trace.

Given to the few
who look beyond circumstance
to find the lines God painted beneath.

Even when awash,
paying untold cost,
finding treasure hid and hold relief.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Love Is

Something felt and
something done.
An action filled emotion.
Understood
by not a one.

Something that was broken.
Something
to fill its cracks.
Something that’s so human
yet everybody lacks.

Something that is given,
flowing free
from Calvary.
Something overlooked
by lost humanity.

Hell is something’s absence,
a solitude of soul.
Hell on earth
refuses
to give something control.

Something
beyond our passions.
It pushes past our fear.
Something so elusive,
yet need is crystal clear.

Something that lingers,
still present
on our world.
Something that is woven,
into every atom curled.

Something is a someone.
He set the world
to spin.
Yet He made my soul,
To him, I am akin.

Someone who is calling,
wooing
humankind.
Back into arms
that are with something lined.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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The Day I Prayed to Die

The day I prayed to die,
I didn’t need any more why’s.
Wasn’t looking for reply’s,
there were no tears left to cry.

The day I prayed to die.

I wasn’t seeking heaven’s gate,
didn’t know if hell would be my fate.
Just knew I couldn’t longer wait,
to reach the end of livings state.

The day I prayed to die.

Question it a selfish prayer?
Of others, I was keenly aware.
But my pain just didn’t care,
it had become too much to bare.

The day I prayed to die.

No longer worth the constant strain,
exhaustion was my daily chain.
I knew I could no longer feign,
on others, I was now a drain.

The day I prayed to die.

Better just to cease to be,
everyone would then be free.
Grieve then moved away from me,
was my unstable inner plea.

The day I prayed to die.

I got no answer on that day.
Silent heaven wouldn’t life betray.
A barred path to its doorway.
Hell also couldn’t let me pay.

The day I prayed to die.

That day passed into the next,
continuation left me vexed.
I was blinded and perplexed.
“God, please, no more checks.”

Again, I prayed to die.

With no end and no relief,
exhaustion now pared with grief.
Greif was growing disbelief,
my prayer demanded a debrief.

Yes, I prayed to die.

Anger at the silent space,
God’s hand, I couldn’t trace.
Left me reeling, self disgrace,
numb to mercy’s embrace.

Still, I prayed to die.

Yet, God’s grace held true.
By degrees, it ever grew.
Working on my tainted view.
Willing to pull me through.

Even though I prayed to die.

See, my God will have his way.
His hand carry’s every day.
Promises will ever stay,
when his child walks astray,

or even prays to die.

Slowly life changing me,
life I wished I could flee.
Locked to earth by God’s decree.
Not my life, but his, you see.

He wouldn’t let me die.

Here I am, still in the mix.
God knows, I’m no easy fix.
Though I’m still one, he picks,
whatever life inflicts.

Steady prayers still fly,
though none ask to die.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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Empty Footsteps

A trail of empty footsteps
all around is whiteness new
in those empty footsteps
are all my thoughts of you

In the softest flakes
that drift on breath to earth
I hear lilting whispers
reminding me of worth

Worth that can’t be measured
worth that won’t decrease
worth that’s my inheritance
it offers up release

As the empty footsteps
fill with weeping snow
again I am reminded
it’s you who truly know

Every longing fault
every triumph found
all mishandled
moments that abound

Before my earthly birth
before the turning age
you knew my entirety
including my backstage

No longer empty footsteps
we both are now abrim
tears of quiet gratitude
as I rims of puddles skim

© 2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef

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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
shining 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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Oneness All Our Own

Warmth of oneness all our own,
a wealth neither has ever known.

Together in a permanent
state under the firmament.

A oneness more than touch alone.
A choice made as love we hone.

Cultivate sustainable,
believing it attainable.

Our oneness growing, building, on,
as closer, we are being drawn.

Uniquely us, yet made to fit
together as our lives are knit.

As with knots, it’s never straight.
Oneness is our guarding gate.

No other two could ever be
quite like this oneness of you and me.

©Mary Grace van der Kroef 2020

The Body, Mind, and Soul

“I’m tired,” said the Body,
to its brother, Mind.
“The pain within this shell
leaves me so confined.”

“I’m tired,” said the Mind,
to its sister Soul.
“The heaviness I feel
threatens my control.”

“I’m tired,” said the soul,
to its God above.
“The weariness around me
is muffling my love.”

“I hear you,” said the Father,
to his child’s whole.
“I see the toil and strife
is taking quite a toll.”

Then the father wept
He shared his child’s pain
Tears slid down God’s face
To mix with earthly rain.

It pooled in the puddles.
Scattered over stones.
It rang on ever roof,
in muted flowing tones.

A lullaby of grief,
harmonized with love.
Tucked child in
with night a woollen glove.

As the morning rose
to kiss the sky with pink.
Child’s eyes opened
and Body gave a blink.

Mind acknowledged pain
as Body stretched to sit.
But Soul still held its payer
refusing now to quit.

“I’m not quite as tired,”
said body to its mind.
Mind reflected quietly,
now with Soul aligned.

“I hear the prayer inside me,”
said mind to body’s pain.
“Even though this day,
will bring another strain.

I feel Father’s love.
I heard it through the night.
Soul remembers well
God’s goodness and His might.”

Though the body weak
It leaned on Mind’s new will.
Mind held on to Soul,
Still drinking in her fill.

From lullaby to bird song,
outside the windowpane,
God’s love was still flowing.
Its refrain would never wane.

“The will to carry on.
The strength to carry more.
Thank you, God, for holding me.
Show me what’s in store.
I long to hear you more.”

©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