A king,
A victim,
A priest,A king accused,
A victim scourged,
A priest condemned,A king crowned and robed,
A victim beaten and humiliated,
A priest on the altar of the Cross,O Anointed One,
O Crucified One,
O Holy One,
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done.
Eternal Priesthood won.by Joann Nelander
poetry
All posts tagged poetry
You are before me,
Drawing me ever closer.
I am lost in loving,
Beseeching and begetting
By Your grace.
You call me
“The apple of Your eye”.
Look, then, upon my world.
Perfect it,
Through this, my prayer.
Color the ghettos of sin
With hues of charity.
Bring a springtime of purity,
That earth may be as heaven,
Peopled with Children of God.
My loaves and fishes
Can feed the poor and hungry.
Though they be few, You are mighty.
Grace, Grace, O Holy Grace,
Behold me,
As I feast on Thee.
copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Holy Mother Mary,
I invite Your presence in my life.
As you look on my days,
Listen to my prayers,
Watch my growth through the years,
Touch me with the graces
Of.your Motherly prerogative,
You who walked the way of the Cross
With your Holy Son,
From the instant of His Incarnation
In your sacred womb,
Be beside me
In my every moment.
Meet me in my joys and sorrows
And impart your maternal blessing.
May my soul grow holy,
As you rush to lift me,
When I fall,
Just as you interceded
For Jesus in His Passion.
He fell under the weight of my sins,
And you cried out to heaven.
Hear now my heart
Beseeching thee.
Standing by His Cross,
See me in His Suffering
And receive me as your own.
Take the moments,
And all the years,
Of my existence,
In your arms,
As you did the Body of your Son,
When lowered from His Cross.
He wrought my Salvation
In that fearsome Hour.
Wrap my years in His shroud
And when I wake,
Rejoice in this,
My Easter morn.
Kin of my heart, I come to You, the Altar.
At Your feet
I lay myself down.
Redeemer Brother, cover me
With your mantle.
Claim me as Your own.
Protect me through the night,
Wake me at dawn with a sweet caress.
Let my name be as a kiss upon Your lips.
Closer than breath,
Stronger than death,
Our hearts, now and forever, One.
copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
O crystalline waters of grace,
Pure outpouring of the Trinity,
Vessel of redemption,
Into which has been entrusted
The manifestation of the Son of man,
And Son of God,
Pour into me your holy contemplations
That my soul may behold the Light
That transformed humanity with your “Fiat.”
Restoring paradise to the fallen.
Ground of His Coming in the Flesh,
Visit me
Who is pregnant with Promise,
As I await the flowering
Of the seed of your faith,
Jesus,
Taking root in me.
O Women, my Mother,
Nurture the Word spoken to my heart,
That Love may again fulfill
The Will that caused Hope
To spring up in the soil
Into which His Cross
Has been planted.
Water me,
Who drinks
From the streams
Of your remembrances,
As I behold in my soul
The water and the Blood.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Empty the tomb,
The wrappings set aside.
No Body to be found,
Faith in triumph shouts.
It is Easter dawn.
Joy spills or’ heaven’s ledge
As sun rises to high heaven.
Hope blankets earth’s face.
Love penetrates its depth.
A people, newborn,
Called forth to be light.
Witnesses stand forth,
Wrapped about in wedding garb,
They go forth to meet the Groom.
© 2014 Joann Nelander
All that matters,
To be like Christ,
What else is there?
Want what the Father wants,
Love, love, love!
Suffer with Jesus,
As He suffers,
Lack of love
In the world,
In people,
In Christians.
The world belongs to God,
Creator of Beauty, Holiness, Truth,
All that is.
Creation confesses Jesus,
Gives witness to God.
Live like him.
Talk like Him.
Let Him impress on you
His image as on Veronica’s veil,
Offered in compassion.
Impressed with the face of Jesus,
Go forward
In newness of life,
A new creation.
False images,
Reject them!
Imitate Jesus Christ.
Have Him before your eyes
All the day long.
Have Him on your tongue
All the day long.
Live with Him
Through the night,
Through the dark,
Into the smiling Light.
All is grace.
What else is there?
© 2014 Joann Nelander
O God,
See Your Saints,
And in them
See Your Son.
Behold in their living
And their dying the Cross
And the glory of God.
Enfleshed anew,
It is the Holy Spirit,
As in the womb of the Virgin
Who gIves to the world
Proof of Your Love.
Your lowly creature, Man
Receives in his very being,
The splendor of Your might,
The eternal evidence
Of Your victory.
Satan and Sin, conquered,
Death defeated,
You dawn
And the Son arises.
You shine in Your own,
Giving glory to God,
The Bridegroom,
Loving the Bride.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
I was Irish once:
I was Irish for brief moments,
As they danced on makeshift stage.
Three sisters donned in green and white,
With ribbons in curled hair.
I was Irish for brief moments,
As locks bounced to rhythms tapped,
By jigging, flying feet,
Flitting blithely through the air.
I was Irish for brief moments,
Of merriment sublime,
Happy, joyful leaping,
Knees high, and lifted, kicking.
I was Irish for brief moments
Minstrels played their magic tunes,
And young girls moved in rocking fashion
Erin’s reveries impassioned.
I was Irish for brief moments.
Sweetly skirted colleens,
Poised on pointed toes.
Sent hearts a-skipping, happy legs a-lifting,
I was Irish for brief moments,
As fairies with green ribbons
In coiffed and flaming hair,
Spun a golden space in memory’s place.
I was Irish for brief moments,
And see again in dreaming,
Gladsome spinning, hopping, prancing,
Three sisters on stage dancing.
Yes, I was Irish once.
©2013 Joann Nelander
all rights reserved
I was Irish once:
I was Irish for brief moments,
As they danced on makeshift stage.
Three sisters donned in green and white,
With ribbons in curled hair.
I was Irish for brief moments,
As locks bounced to rhythms tapped,
By jigging, flying feet,
Flitting blithely through the air.
I was Irish for brief moments,
Of merriment sublime,
Happy, joyful leaping,
Knees high, and lifted, kicking.
I was Irish for brief moments
Minstrels played their magic tunes,
And young girls moved in rocking fashion
Erin’s reveries impassioned.
I was Irish for brief moments.
Sweetly skirted colleens,
Poised on pointed toes.
Sent hearts a-skipping, happy legs a-lifting,
I was Irish for brief moments,
As fairies with green ribbons
In coiffed and flaming hair,
Spun a golden space in memory’s place.
I was Irish for brief moments,
And see again in dreaming,
Gladsome spinning, hopping, prancing,
Three sisters on stage dancing.
Yes, I was Irish once.
©2013 Joann Nelander
all rights reserved
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