Pray,
Take care
Who you turn away.
Give thought,
And ‘haps a listening ear.
In truth,
The heart of God
Beats in the beggars breast.
copyright 2015 Joann Nelander
Pray,
Take care
Who you turn away.
Give thought,
And ‘haps a listening ear.
In truth,
The heart of God
Beats in the beggars breast.
copyright 2015 Joann Nelander
What did they say?
The men that came, then went their way.
Seeking the One all people long to see,
They left their hearths, these Wise Men Three.
“Where is He?”; the question echoes through ages long.
As He seeks a home ‘mong busy throng.
We prayed, sang and offered gifts beneath a tree.
Because He’s come for hearts, He’s come for me.
Where is He of blessed event,
Now the festive limbs are spent?
Has He found a hearth to call a throne?
Has He your heart to be His own?
©2015 Joann Nelander
Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.
Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.
Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.
Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.
© 2015 Joann Nelander
Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.
Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.
Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.
Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.
© 2015 Joann Nelander
All days have led to this day.
Yesterdays march up to the edge in Time,
But cannot enter upon my Now.
As precursors they stand,
Peering onto this Today,
Blind as bats.
Their edges approach
But halt at the Present.
Here I reign with my will.
If all my mistakes
Shout for change,
Am I now the fool
Who fails to learn?
With the sun,
I am begun.
Eternity beckons me,
Where Time cannot go,
Invites, “Come.”
He, Who sails on Eternity’s Wing,
Would be my Mender,
Not in a breaking of the Past,
But a knitting of it,
A seamless cloth,
As His very own.
The morrow begins as a Way I choose;
Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
Are gift to my being,
And beginning in this Now,
I am His.
©2015 Joann Nelander
Longinus,
You, who beheld Life,
As your Savior
Hung between Heaven and Earth,
Dying on His Cross,
Your heart came alive
At the sight of the Mother’s agony.
The thrust of your spear
Lanced the heart of the Christ
And pierced your own
To let Him enter,
He, who would henceforth,
Possess you in contemplation.
His blood, falling upon weak and worldly eyes,,
Touched in you, the pagan,
Opening eyes blind to the things of God,
With the sight of the Holy.
Your life became a contemplation
Of the Dying and the Rising,
Did you fall into a sleep,
As the angels descended to roll away the stone?
Did premonitions of sacred mystery stir you,
Wakening the soldier witness soul,
To serve not merely an emperor,
But True God?
The Cassius of the Crucifixion
Died, only to open his eyes in faith,
And live, henceforth a new man,
With a story of Blood and Water,
And New Life,
copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Although, I have been resting
In Your Most Sacred Heart,
Safe in Your holy embrace
Throughout this night,
You has been waiting for this moment,
When my eyes open,
Hoping I would look at You,
And return Your loving glance.
© 2014 Joann Nelander
Although, I have been resting
In Your Most Sacred Heart,
Safe in Your holy embrace
Throughout this night,
You has been waiting for this moment,
When my eyes open,
Hoping I would look at You,
And return Your loving glance.
© 2014 Joann Nelander
The First Heartbeat
In praise and thanksgiving for the first beat
Of the Sacred Heart of Him
Who was born,
Savior and King.
As today, new life is conceived,
And secreted away in a woman’s womb,
Known only to God in darkness,
As it’s rhythms begin a song of praise
Ever so silent.
Then the moment of joyous awakening,
A singular throb sends a resounding shiver
Through amniotic waters,
Alerting angels of one more heart
Ready to join their chorus of hosannas.
Sounds full of thankfulness,
A eucharist of being and becoming,
Ever so sacred,
To the glory of God.
copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Lifted up,
You hang above the world.
Your outstretched arms
Measure the breath of Your Love.
How great the distance between us,
Yet, greater still,
Your unquenchable thirst for me.
I am a child, a lowly one,
Troubling you yet and always.
I tug at the hem of Your garment
While You tug at my heart.
Lord of my hopes,
Lord of my longing,
Lord of my sorrows,
Lord of my weeping,
Ruler of all Time and Space,
You draw me to an Eternity in Your Embrace.
©2014 Joann Nelander