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12/30/12

A Warrior’s Lullaby – Music Video

12/27/12

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,
Becoming yet another ghost,
Withered as leaves,
Crumbled, and carried aloft
By winter winds,
Too soon scattered
By the breezes of Time.

Is it truly spent,
Dead and long forgotten,
Living but in memory?
May not reflection
Call it from the grave,
Uncover the gain
Hold it fast
To live again?

How has its many waters
Blessed thee and me,
As sacred signs?
Will it, as muse, retain a power
For its having been,
And then no more?

What saints and angels
Sent my way,
Colored its day?
In sorrow,
Who came to hold my hand?
In joy,
Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,
And laughter to tilt the scale of grief?
Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,
That fires of love be stoked
To warm and blaze anew?

Has my thanksgivings
Been recorded in the pyre,
Written in the embers now glowing
As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,
But let them not hurry
To a crypt without a wake.
Drink the happy wine of memory,
Sip, as the seasons turn.
Contemplate and savor
The seasons of your soul.

©2011  Joann Nelander

12/22/12

2012 Landscape Dreams Photo Contest Winners

Thank you to all who voted in the contest, especially if you voted for my sister's entry or mine.
My sister, Bernadette Buechler, is the First Prize Winner. Go Sis! Here is her photo entitled:

"Sunset Tapestry Over White Sands:

Sunset Tapestry Over White Sands by Bernadetter Buechler

20121221-214133.jpg

Also a winner, yours truly. Again thank you for your vote.
I am listed as "Lelander" in the winners list, but honestly, that's me, and that is, NELANDER, thank you very much!

Here's my winning photograph, entitled:

"Sunset Majesty"

Here's the list:

20121221-214624.jpg

12/21/12

Prayer to the Powerful Babe

O, Jesus, True God,
Beginning human life
In the womb of Mary,
I come to You in Your first moments,
O powerful Babe.

Mother Mary's "Fiat"
Brought the Father's Will to Earth,
Wrapped in the stuff of Man,
Purity's Flesh emerging as cells divide.

I come to You, God-Man,
In Your holy beginning,
Awaiting, with all creation,
The formation of Your Sacred Heart
In Time.

O, Happy Fruition,
O, Incarnate Son,
In Mary's virginal womb,
Bless with inner healing
The whole of my life.
Bring to my concupiscence
Conformity to the Father's Will.

I am the least in my Father's house,
But by my spiritual visitation,
My willing presence,
In the nascent Being of the Christ,
One, so small and mean as me,
Can find a home
As the Heart of Jesus
Is formed and fired.

O, powerful Babe,
O, pure and holy Fetus,
I trust in You
From Your beginning
As Prophet, Priest and King,
To bring me,
And all creation,
To a happy end.
Amen

Copyright Joann Nelander 2011

All rights reserved

Babe of All Perfection

O happy Babe!

Babe of All Perfection,

Your little heart, so full of love,

Your face radiant,

Reflected in Your mother’s gaze.

Your soul, ablaze!

Hearth of longing and compassion,

The Family of Nations comes to adore You

 

©2011 Joann Nelander

12/16/12

Rejoice! Gaudete

Rejoice!

Give me, God,
This glad rejoicing.
I am like a beggar at the gate.
My rags declare my need.
My knock trumpets my desire.

Your courts are full
Of plentiful redemption.
Wine and the merriment
Of the forgiven,
Invite my humble footsteps.

Although I bring myself
To Your threshold,
I cannot enter in,
For Sin is an effrontery,
An open assault on Your Majesty.

All awaits Your mercy.
Heaven is silent before You.
Tears are now my only arraignment
The voice of Your messenger
The only hope in my wilderness.

The King, Himself,
Rises from His throne.
Crowns are cast down at His feet.
As the sun shines from His Being,
Mercy rays meet my eyes,
And melt my heart.

He draws near.
His hand is at the Gate
To let in the beggar and the multitude,
For I am not alone.
The nations,
In long suffering and sorrow,
Kneel with me.

He approaches.
He is near.
Wedding garments in place of our polluted rags,
Rings and sandals for prodigal feet.

He comes,
He comes mid glad rejoicing.
We need wait but a moment.
The Virgin is with Child,
And He has left His throne
To succor the poor of all the earth.

By Joann Nelander

12/11/12

Mysterious Will of God

From Your Cross
You looked upon Man
Your eyes were blinded
By Your Own Blood.
You could not even wipe
That Blood away,
For bound to a Cross,
Your Hands were held fast
To the mysterious Will
Of Your Father.

In Your Bloody Blindness,
You felt the anguish of rejection,
The rejection of Your People,
The rejection of the kings of the Earth,
The rejection of the once adoring crowds,
The rejection of cowardly friends,
Rejection of High Priests of Covenant Old,
And the rejection of disciples,
Destined to proclaim the New,
Alone,
Save for the Mother,
The Beloved Disciple
At her side,
And the repentant Magdalene,
Who knew both Sin
And deliverance at Your Hand.

From Your Cross
Look upon me.
See with Your heart
To forgive my Sin.
Draw me by way
Of the Blood and Water
Flowing from Your Pierced Side.
Wash away my Sin
In that Holy Tide,
That the Mysterious Will
Of Your Father
Give life to yet another son.
Thy will be done.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

12/8/12

HOLIDAY GIFT - $10 OFF MY BOOKS

The Holy Night by Carlo Maratta

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12/7/12

Our Lady of Lourdes - "I AM THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION"

Narrated by Mariola Paini


In 1858 the virgin Mary Immaculate appeared to Bernadette Soubirous near Lourdes in France within the cave of Massabielle. Through this humble girl, Mary called sinners to conversion and enkindled within the Church a great zeal for prayer and charity, especially service to the sick and poor. From a letter by Saint Marie Bernadette Soubirous, virgin (Ep. ad P. Gondrand, a 1861: cf. A. Ravier, Les écrits de sainte Bernadette, Paris 1961, pp. 53-59) The lady spoke to me I had gone down one day with two other girls to the bank of the river Gave when suddenly I heard a kind of rustling sound. I turned my head toward the field by the side of the river but the trees seemed quite still and the noise was evidently not from them. Then I looked up and caught sight of the cave where I saw a lady wearing a lovely white dress with a bright belt. On top of each of her feet was a pale yellow rose, the same color as her rosary beads. At this I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was seeing things, and I put my hands into the fold of my dress where my rosary was. I wanted to make the sign of the cross but for the life of me I couldn't manage it and my hand just fell down. Then the lady made the sign of the cross herself and at the second attempt I managed to do the same, though my hands were trembling. Then I began to say the rosary while the lady let her beads slip through her fingers, without moving her lips. When I stopped saying the Hail Mary, she immediately vanished. I asked my two companions if they had noticed anything, but they said no. Of course they wanted to know what I was doing and I told them that I had seen a lady wearing a nice white dress, though I didn't know who she was. I told them not to say anything about it, and they said I was silly to have anything to do with it. I said they were wrong and I came back next Sunday, feeling myself drawn to the place.... The third time I went the lady spoke to me and asked me to come every day for fifteen days. I said I would and then she said that she wanted me to tell the priests to build a chapel there. She also told me to drink from the stream. I went to the Gave, the only stream I could see. Then she made me realize she was not speaking of the Gave and she indicated a little trickle of water close-by. When I got to it I could only find a few drops, mostly mud. I cupped my hands to catch some liquid without success and then I started to scrape the ground. I managed to find a few drops of water but only at the fourth attempt was there a sufficient amount for any kind of drink. The lady then vanished and I went back home. I went back each day for fifteen days and each time, except one Monday and one Friday, the lady appeared and told me to look for a stream and wash in it and to see that the priests build a chapel there. I must also pray, she said, for the conversion of sinners. I asked her many times what she meant by that, but she only smiled. Finally with outstretched arms and eyes looking up to heaven she told me she was the Immaculate Conception. During the fifteen days she told me three secrets but I was not to speak about them to anyone and so far I have not. This letter from St. Bernadette (linked above) is from the Office of Readings for this day. I put this letter here because the language in which she speaks of Mary's apparitions is that of a child. Dear Bernadette was young and poor when The Blessed Mother appeared to her. She aspired only a simple life, was not overly bright, and it would seem that she was incapable of greatness by this world's standards. Yet, the Blessed Mother appeared to her, and spoke to her kindly and gave her gentle instructions. When Bernadette first saw Our Lady, she did not immediately identify her. She saw, rather, a beautiful woman. In fact, she did not presume to admit that the lady was the Blessed Mother until she was told by the lady herself. Mary called herself the Immaculate Conception, a true expression of beauty. Mary's message to Bernadette was simple and caring, like that of a Mother. Bernadette, although not great, was a saint of blessings and virtue. Mary chose to appear to her and laid upon her shoulders the charge of sharing Mary with others. Bernadette did not live a very long life... but it was one of patient suffering and hope for the world to come. "I cannot promise to make you happy in this world, but in the next" was the promise of the Blessed Mother to her daughter. Bernadette trusted in this promise, with that childlike faith and obedience that were so exemplary in her visits with Mary. This is an example of how Mary is a mother to us. Her apparitions to her gentle daughter Bernadette brings us a message of prayer and healing. Each time that Mary has visited us, she has come with the same tender love and caring. Let us always remember how deeply Mary loves us, how intimate she is with Jesus, and seek to follow her Motherly guidance and receive her consolation.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6K3XmlfzdXQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&]A Letter of Saint Marie Bernadette Soubirou

God of mercy,
we celebrate the feast of Mary,
the sinless mother of God.
May her prayers help us
to rise above our human weakness.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.

– Amen.

Ebook Now Live in Apple's iBookstore

Great book to take into your quiet time:

12/4/12

Advent Patient Preparation

I wait:
For peace on Earth,
I must know it first
Within my soul.

Come to me,
Passing through locked doors,
As Christ's Mass,
Anticipates Easter grace,
For the Christmas gift
Of Incarnation,
Is key and remedy.

Make passage
Into my soul.
For gathered
With your Church,
I wait.

Loving Freely

Mother Mary,
Hold my hand tightly,
As I live my freedom,
As a Child of God.

©2012 Joann Nelander

You Chose Me From the Earth

The day has begun,
And, already,
You have embraced
Your wee one.

I greet You
With the opening
Of my eyes,
With thoughts
That stream anew.

My slumber has brought me
To New Day.
The night was spent
In healing, and a continuity,
That like the day
Follows one unto the other,
Within Your sovereign embrace.

My body leaned
Upon You in trust,
To rise refreshed.
Phantoms of the night
Fled as Your Sun
Rose with purple dawn,
For I place my Trust
In You.
You knit me,
Body, soul and spirit,
Into a unity,
I have known
Since You willed me
Into being.
Unity creating one nature,
Sharing in your dual nature
Of God and Man.
Born of God,
In the Holy Spirit,
I am wed to You
And made ready,
Sun on sun,
For Eternity.

Remembering my frame,
And my need,
Stir into flame
Your Godly Presence,
So that the Bridegroom
Of my Soul
May this day
Take to Himself
The bride He won
From the Cross,
And I ,
Dust of the Earth,
May know the sacred bliss
Of having been chosen.
Being chosen,
And living, in the flesh,
The Life of God.

©2012 Joann Nelander

12/2/12

The Words Hung on My Lips

The words hung on my lips.
I wanted to pray
I wanted to be
In Your Presence.
I wanted to feel
Good again,
To lift myself
Out of myself,
Out of my sorrow.
I looked about me.
The world was on fire.
I could not see.
I could not find one thing
To light my candle.
There was not a breath of air.
I could feel the dark.
It pressed
And weighed
And held me down,
Like trying to run
In a dream,
My efforts went
For naught,
Amidst a paralyzing fear,
My feet are bound,
Phantoms tying them
To the ground.
I wanted to lift my heart,
So that I could sing again.
Where was the music?
Who could play it for me?
Was I really alone?
You used to play with me.
You used to be with me,
And dance with me,
And sing with me.
I used to stand
With the others,
Raise my hands,
Open my mouth,
And proclaim my love
For You.
Where are You now?
Where have You gone?
Or was it me
Who wondered off,
Who was dragged down,
Who fell
And did not rise?
I remember Your Promise
To forgive.
I need that;
I need that forgiveness.
Give it to me now!
I am still Yours.
You have been seeking me.
I know that.
I didn't want to know that.
But I always knew that.
Find me now!
Here I am.
Now, I want You.
I want to feel
God again,
And I know
You'll come.








11/29/12

Many Veils

Still the many veils
Stand between us.
I know they are the weave
Of my concupiscence,
Hanging over my heart,
Weighing the corners
Of my smile,
Hiding me from You
In my shame.

Must I forgive myself
For being other
Than Your Christ?
My imperfection,
And repeated falls
Spoil my high hopes,
But I find them useful as well,
For the crushing of my pride.

The temptation to reign
In the place of God
Is Satan's prompt,
And plays persistently,
Appealing in its disguise
As progressive,
And Evolution at its finest.

Unveiled before you
In humility
I see my call to be least,
And allow You to reign
Great in me.

Lord, triumph over vain glory,
Accomplish all
The Father's desires for me,
That my baptismal garment
Of purest white
May appear
In all the colors
Of Your Glory,
God resplendent
Even in His smallest work
And humblest creature.

Many Veils

Still the many veils
Stand between us.
I know they are the weave
Of my concupiscence,
Hanging over my heart,
Weighing the corners
Of my smile,
Hiding me from You
In my shame.

Must I forgive myself
For being other
Than Your Christ?
My imperfection,
And repeated falls
Spoil my high hopes,
But I find them useful as well,
For the crushing of my pride.

The temptation to reign
In the place of God
Is Satan's prompt,
and plays persistently,
Yet appeal in their disguise
As progressive,
And evolution at its finest.

Unveiled before you in humility
I see my call to be least,
And allow You to reign great in me.
Triumph over vain glory,
Accomplish all
The Father's desires for me,
That my baptismal garment
Of purest white
May appear in all the colors
Of Your Glory,
God Resplendant
Even in His smallest work
And humblest creature.

11/28/12

Weaned Child

I am the weaned child,
Upon Your knee.
Forgetful of time,
I curl Your hair about my fingers,
And tug at Your heartstrings.

My toys, the shiny objects of yesterday,
Lie by the stairs,
By which I began my ascent to You.

Comfort me.
Cuddle me.
Tickle me.

You spend Your universe,
As You had always planned,
Delighting one so small,
The least of the Children of Man.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

11/27/12

Heaven’s Feast

I am hungry, Lord.
Yet, it is not my belly
That speaks.
How is it
That You have
Subjected my gut,
And even my mind
Is Your weaned child,
Yet pangs assail me?
Is it my heart
That desires more?

When You filled me,
I believed I would be
Satisfied forever.
My capacity was full
And overflowing.

As promised,
You made me grow.
My heart expanded
In Your tutorage,
My blood alone
Did not suffice.

I fed on You,
Body and Blood,
And the demand
For Life in me
Kept pace.

Here I am, again,
At Your Table,
At Banquet,
With my King.
Thankfully, my Food
Is in steady supply,
And, in that,
I will be nourished,
And hungry no more.

You never deny me.
May I never deny You,
My Host and my Plenty,
Until, at last,
I sup at Heaven's Feast
For all Eternity.

11/26/12

Crown of Thorns

Technorati Tags: ,,,

Crown of Thorns,
Kingship crowned,
Where the diamonds?
Where the gold?
Riverlets of Your Mercy
Covering Holy Face.

Crown of Thorns,
Kingship in rejection,
Shining as diamonds,
Pure as gold,
Blood, all holy,
Innocence dying on a Cross,
Satisfying the Father's desire
For sons and daughters
Made holy in His Christ,
Now by our willing,
And humble assent.

Crown of Thorns,
Glorious Redeemer,
They kingdom come.

11/25/12

Jesus Christ, the King of All Nations and All Time

Cover all my life,
And my sin
Nail to Your Cross.
Indeed, cover all of Time,
Till Time be no more.
You have dominion,
And I, Your least,
Cry in my wretchedness.

Faithful Witness,
You Who have seen the Father,
And His Work,
And His Will,
Witness to Life and Love.

Firstborn of the Dead
Bless those who
Enter through the Veil
Of Your Flesh,
Your pierced side,
An open door.

You rule all the kingdoms
Of the Earth,
And all the peoples
For whom You were nailed
To the Tree,
Your Cross becoming
A Tree of Life,
Where Death sought victory,
But was ravaged,
As You assailed it
From Your grave,
A grave that couldn't hold You.

Lord of the Now,
Alive in all
Who live
Covered in Your Blood,
No earthly monarch
Could love his people
As You Love us.

You make us priests,
Prophets and kings,
As Your Church marches
Throughout Time,
Into Eternity,
As Your Body.
Joined to its Head,
King and captain.

Alive in Your Divinity,
King of All,
Alpha and Omega,
King of Kings,
Embracing and transforming,
Reign over Past, Present and To Come.

We offer the sacrifice
Of our lives,
Sinful and faulty
As they are,
To live for Your announcing
The Trinity of God,
Witnessing with You,
For in You , we, too, reign
To be blessing
To the Nations
To be Church.

Jesus Christ,
King of Al Nations,
And all Time,
You have dominion,
Glory and power,
Reign over all,
Forever.

©2012 Joann Nelander

©2012 Joann Nelander

Jesus Christ, the King of All Nations and All Time

Cover all my life,
And my sin
Nail to Your Cross.
Indeed, cover all of Time,
Till Time be no more.
You have dominion,
And I, Your least,
Cry in my wretchedness.

Faithful Witness,
You Who have seen the Father,
And His Work,
And His Will,
Witness to Life and Love.

Firstborn of the Dead
Bless those who
Enter through the Veil
Of Your Flesh,
Your pierced side,
An open door.

You rule all the kingdoms
Of the Earth,
And all the peoples
For whom You were nailed
To the Tree,
Your Cross becoming
A Tree of Life,
Where Death sought victory,
But was ravaged,
As You assailed it
From Your grave,
A grave that couldn't hold You.

Lord of the Now,
Alive in all
Who live
Covered in Your Blood,
No earthly monarch
Could love his people
As You Love us.

You make us priests,
Prophets and kings,
As Your Church marches
Throughout Time,
Into Eternity,
As Your Body.
Joined to its Head,
King and captain.

Alive in Your Divinity,
King of All,
Alpha and Omega,
King of Kings,
Embracing and transforming,
Reign over Past, Present and To Come.

We offer the sacrifice
Of our lives,
Sinful and faulty
As they are,
To live for Your announcing
The Trinity of God,
Witnessing with You,
For  in You , we, too,  reign
To be blessing
To the Nations
To be Church.

Jesus Christ,
King of Al Nations,
And all Time,
You have domain,
Reign over all,
Forever.

©2012 Joann Nelander

11/23/12

How Poor Am I?

How poor am I?
No one suspects my poverty,
For I hide it
'Neath empty bravado.

All show,
The fool fooling all,
But myself.
Yet, sometimes,
I , too, believe
My haughty claims.
How poor am I?

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

Precious Jesus

Precious Jesus,
Holy Gem,
Beauty, beyond my knowing,
You are God, hidden,
As diamond in the rough,
A Man, yet God, One.

It is for me
To desire You,
To call You,
To allow You,
God willing.

You will be my tumbler,
Life's crucible.
The Rock, chipping away
At my clay.
My stoniness,
Yielding its course substance,
While I journey.
Rude being honed
To perfection.

You polish,
And reveal
Light through my layers,
The Father, shining in You,
The Sun of His Being,
Resplendent now in me,
Made glorious
In You,
Precious Jesus,
Holy Gem.

©2012 Joann Nelander

11/13/12

Kiss of Prayer

No one would argue
That I exist
And live this day
On Earth.
Yet, I know
That I am with You.

Here in this place
At this Time,
I breathe Heaven's air
As I pray
"Come Holy Spirit"
And You come,
Bringing Heaven with You
To dwell in the land
You make Your own
And, by grace, call holy.

Here, love and truth meet,
justice and peace kiss."
Am I not caught
In this embrace?

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander

Rank and File

O God, that I may do my part.
All are arrayed for battle.
I am enjoined
Rank and file
In readiness.

Command us!
Vigilant and faith
Unconstrained,
We press forward,
Lean upon You
And desire all that You Are,

Our only rest,
Your consummate End,
With Your Spirit
We praise Your Glory
In the triumphant shout.
Alleluia!

11/12/12

Update:Photo Contestant (Me) Needs Your Vote or Vote for My Sister

I've entered Landscape Dreams Photo Contest and I would appreciate your vote.

If you like my either of my entries, please do me the honor of clicking on the picture and vote by hitting the VOTE button:

Sunset Majesty

 Sunset Majesty

 Sandia Dreaming

Sunset Before the Storm

OR

You might like to vote for my sister, Bernadette Buechler's entry: Sunset Tapestry Over White Sands

Hidden Gifts

Be attentive to the small.
Diminutive things hide gift,
Less the glory,
Inviting in simplicity
And in need,
Making room for God to move
Upon the empty places,
To spend Himself.

God will not keep company
With vain glory,
Nor suffer the competition
Of the arrogant will.
The humble,
Empty of self,
Win the Heart of God.

11/11/12

Veterans Day–Passion of a Warrior


When did his passion begin?
Did it commence with the kiss
By which he bid his loved ones adieu.
Or did the call to battle
Bid him count the cost,
Shattering vanities and proud hoorahs,
With winter ice
Through veins
Piercing to the marrow of bone.
The Call was always greater
Than one man’s valor or presumption.
Holier than Adam could undertake in rage,
Yet a young David found an “Amen”
Rising within his shepherd- breast,
Shielded by hope and faith
Born of a Savior,
Borne into battle
By the foal that carried Him forth.
All battles,
Waged for the souls of men,
Find common ground;
Friend and foe,
Dying side by side.
As grains numbered as the sand,
And the blood,
Bridle high at Armageddon,
Corpses piled and claiming
The best among us,
As generations of spent warriors’ might,
Trust to God
To judge the heart of every man,
And wear his colors in His raiment.
Memories, born as festering wounds,
Or toughened scars,
Mark the man and record the Passion.
No jot or tiddle forgotten,
Fingered on the ground,
Condemning only the Accuser.
Angels minister the balm of Gilead
As the dead live again,
And the living love
Through the Darkness.
Mended hearts,
Held to a measure,
Weighed on scales of Mercy.
Are blessed.
None forgotten,
All forgiven.
How long? How long?
Martyrs witness the passion of the warrior,
And place merited crown,
And victor’s wreathe,
As a new name resounds,
Pronounced by the Mouth of God.
©2012 Joann Nelander

11/10/12

Knowing You

I have been flawed
For all the years
You have known me.

Ah, but You
Have known me.
In this is my hope,
That I have known You, too.

You Are a New Creation


You are a new creation.

You hear the words,
Even delight at them.
Smiling and free
You run off to play,
Tucking the Words away.

Think to steal a day.
Take out the Words.
Turn them in your heart.
With fingers of prayer,
Feel their frame,
Touch them again.

The Words do not come alone.
He Who spoke them
Descends into your heart,
Repeats His refrain,
Speaks Love again.

You are a new creation.

Each time the Words are spoken,
The creature takes on a glow,
Exists in Time
Holiness accentuated,
Grace effectuated.

Pondered and plumbed,
Their depths revealed,
An anchor of Truth
Makes them the bedrock
Of your being.
With Love's true eyes
All is new for the seeing.

You are a New Creation.







11/7/12

Abandonment to the Will of God


Abandonment to the Will of God,
That's the Call.
What is holding you back
From accepting the Cross?
Give God your plans.
Give God your anger.
Give God your pain.
Give God your way.
Give God the nails
That nail you to your will.
Allow the nails in His Hands
To hold you fast with Him.
Our mouths may praise
His Father with Him
In this the Holy Hour of Abandonment.
We call His Name
As the crowds cry "Crucify."
This is the hour for prayer.
Then shall come the fruit of Crucifixion,
Then will God's Justice descend,
Then will the rain fall.
In each heart that looks,
Cries, mourns,
Goes to their homes disheartened,
And yet believes,
A flower will grow.
God will yet feed the multitude,
Not with the bread of Mammon,
But with His Holy Flesh
Willing supplied,
The same flesh
Savagely devoured
By the mob.
As the praise goes up,
Then will His Reign begin,
Then will God bless the Land,
Then will the Father
Kiss the multitude
Who dared lift the Son
High above the Earth.
©2012 Joann Nelander
Abandonment to the Will of God  (Read by author)

Hour of Darkness


Hour of Darkness (Read by author)


To the Cross we go,
A Nation hanging,
Lifted on the wood,
Drying up, exposed,
Blood drained
In a hemorrhage
Of its young.

Did you watch?
We're you one
To wring your hands?
Were your hearts wrenched,
Or did you party
With the crowd
As the veil
Of the Temple
Was torn in two?

Suffer the Moment
Hoping with Love,
That the curtain,
Was split
From top to bottom.
That even now,
In the darkest hour
Of  choice's choosing,
When Herod has opened
Yet another womb,
Salvation is found in Crucifixion,
Still God will shine through
The gaping Wound in His Side,
As God is want to do.
©2012 Joann   All rights reserved
©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved
Hour of Darkness (Read by author)

11/5/12

Purity of Heart

There is only one heart so pure,
As to remain demure,
One life lived in blessed union
With Your Own.
One so holy
As to share Your throne.

Solomon, in His wisdom
A type of Christ,
Rose from his kingly chair
To seat his mother
By his side,
Thereby made clear
Her stature in his sight,
Made queenly and motherly ruling
Her right.

Queen Mother, most pure and holy,
By the Father 's will made New Eve
To the New Adam, His Son,
A Spouse of God,
Of flesh and blood,
To share the rule
Of David's Promised House.
When courted by the Holy Spirit
Your "Fiat"
Made you One
To bring forth
Holy Son.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

11/3/12

Just One More Day



Just One More Day

A Nation cries
In want of Thee.
Time hurries,
All the while consuming,
That which our hands have built.

Our plenty devoured
In furnaces of desire.
"More, give us more,
The engines roar. "

You wait,
That we might recognize
Your reign.
Your sun rises on each new day.
You are patient.
Wait, wait, wait....

Obedience is not our way.
We turn only blind eyes
And misprize chastisement's scourge.
We know only
The gates of Hell demand,
Demand our sacrifice,
Human sacrifice.
We do not deny them.

No place too sacred to invade.
Give the gods their due,
For they pay our way.
After all, we are only clay,
Living to be merry
One more day.

You speak of Love and Eternity.
Our bellies cry out "Now"
"Who needs Your Throne!"
Give us bread without God,
Our way,
Just one more day.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

11/1/12

New Book

Can Heaven Be Made More Glorious

If heaven can be made more glorious,
Make it so, my Lord.

If the honor and respect,  I show,
Sinner, though I am,
Can render
Your saints more glory,
For the light
They shine on men,
Make it so, my Lord.

If the blood of martyrs,
Can again be received
Before Your throne,
Mingled with the Blood of Christ,
That coursed their veins,
And flowed out
As rivers.
To wash the Nations
And praise Your Holy Name,
Make it so, my Lord.

All time is Now
In Your Eternity.
Your battles,
Though waging on earth,
Have all been won,
And presented to You
In Your Son.

"Thy Kingdom come!"
You make it so , O my Lord.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

10/30/12

To Greater Heights

Lift me to Your shoulder;
Carry me, henceforth.
I can see all things in a new way,
From my throne above the world.
Your Shepherd's crook in view,
A sign of assurance,
Calming the sea, defeating the flesh,
Vanquishing the Foe.
Perched in Paradise,
I ride above the storm.
Battles won by stillness,
Flames quenched by Water from the Rock.
Carrying the one You love,
Bearing Your burden,
Loving Your labor,
Loving me.
I see the wound of Your Cross.
I see Blood,and Bone,
And I see me,
Carved in Your bruised
And beaten flesh,

Lifted to Your shoulder,
You carry me,
Onward and upward,
Unto greater heights,
Cross and throne,
One in God alone.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

Passion-Deed

Lord, my tears are plentiful,
As I behold Thee in Thy rest.
Kneeling in poverty of spirit,
I am thrice blest.

Your forever Union
With our Heavenly Father
Embraces me as the child,
That I am want to be,
Obedient, merciful and mild.

The Holy Spirit of God
Rests upon me,
Gifting me in sorrow for sin,
Raising me above the world,
And lifting me
To the lap of Abba Father, with You, within.

Here in hallowed Presence,
My tears fall upon the garden,
You plant in my soul,
To water this consecrated plot
Repleat with the promised fulfillment That heals and makes me whole.

Already, but not yet,
Here in seed,
With You in Eternity,
Won by Cross and Passion-Deed.

©2012 Joann Nelander

10/23/12

Your Way, My Way


I wept on the way, O Lord.
Gratitude overwhelmed me,
For I had, at last,
Found my way.

Bending to me,
Your inclination
Gave me courage.
My garments were not pretty,
For a King to gaze upon,
But You saw only me,
Your creature in need.

I stirred Your Passion,
For it was for me
That You searched,
Despite my dishevelment,
You recognized Your Image
Stamped in my being.

You clutched me to Your bosom,
Covered me with Your mantle.
And carried me to the Inn Keeper.

In Your Church,
The treasures You deposited,
Ministered to my wounds.
Deep and resistant,
As the lesions were,
They yielded,
As I lingered long,
In the bed of my sorrow,
Beholding the cause
For my joy.

Your Way is all about me,
Though narrow,
So as to thread
The eye of a needle,
It is like Your broad Smile.

Graced virtue, Your gift,
Accompany me.
The world is as the meadows
Surrounding Your dwelling among men.

Flowers, in due season,
Spring up in my soul,
And fruit, You wait for,
Following the budding
Of my prayer,
Will be rich for Your taking.

I am the love you seek,
And the Love You,
From the beginning,
Have given.
For it is
In Your nature to Love
And in my nature
To be loved.
This is Your Way, my Love.
This is the Way I choose.
©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

10/19/12

Bless This House

Bless this house,
This simple abode,
Where You,Jesus,
Take Your rest.
Blessed Mary, Mistress,
Of the little house,
Now at Loretto,
You labored in love,
With Love at your side,
And always in your heart.
Your labor hallowed the walls
Of your domain,
The domicile of Peace.
Now, purify, all under my roof,
That my house may rest
In solidarity.
Bless my every labor.
Make this earthly tent
Strong against the foe,
And a sanctuary
For Your Son.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

Under My Roof

O my Lord,
My Friend,
Your saints labored so
To remove the roof
That stood between You
And their friend in need.
Here in this morning,
It was You,
Who labored,
In Your Sacrifice.
To enter under my roof,
You forgave me,
That nothing
Might stand in the way
Of Your coming to me,
In my need.
To my delight.
I am ,now, tabernacle,
Ciborium and chalice.
I hold You,
Body,mind soul
And divinity.
Under my roof.
Here in my heart,
You labored,
And now rest.
What joy!
What sweetness,
Having You
For this moment
Of holy time,
That I may be healed.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

10/16/12

Haunting Silence


Time to name the monster
Who stirs at night.
Who lives within
To hide our sin.

Time to make room,
In memory's caverns,
Rather than banish,
What simply won't vanish.

You had a choice once,
That gave birth to phantoms,
Making you live your choice,
Silencing not its voice.

The monster lives and grows,
Curled and caved in your heart.
When the Light goes out,
It walks about.

Its countenance a disfigurement,
Frightful yet your own.
Its dwelling through the years,
Fraught with reticence and tears.

Has it no right?
No place of rest?
When the day is done,
No place in the sun.

Most monsters are but part
Of our fallen selves,
Standing in the way
Of each new day.

The way out
Is also within.
Give the chimera a name.
Acknowledge its claim.

Give the silence life,
Life for the living,
For what you kill,
Haunts you still.

Time to embrace,
And wrap the past in Mercy.
Give it a womb,
Instead of a tomb.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

10/15/12

Soulful Recall


My Lord, my God, my All,
Give me a heart for You,
Give me the heart
Of a child,
Your child.

Create me anew,
For I wander
Far from You,
You, Who woos me constantly,
You, Who wants me eternally.

Each day, upon day,
Challenges me to hold on,
Hold on to Faith.
Hold on to Hope.
Hold on to You,
Who are Love.

Though You are constant,
I am inconstant.
Searching my moments,
In soulful recall,
I see my tempters three,
Worldly, fleshly and demonic.
They, too, hunger for me,
But where You
Would take me to Yourself,
And make me like,
And of Yourself,
They would devour me,
Chew upon me,
Suck out the juice,
And spit me out.

Give me the time.
Give me the inclination,
For I live in a world
Of voices,
And distractions.
They whisper in my ears,
Shout, and demand allegiance,
Calling me to come away,
To go astray,
To worship at strange altars.

In Your Light
I see my way.
In Your Light
The way to You
Shines as a highway,
Luminescent in the night.

My Lord, my God, my All,
Fight for me.
Fight them all.

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

10/11/12

Graced to Be


I offer You, O Lord,
The ground of my being,
The deep from wither
My thoughts and prayers arise.

O Holy Spirit,
Hover over the abyss within,
To grace the land
Rising out of my chaos,
Like the signal blessing
Of the dove of peace,
And a new beginning
Over the waters
After the Flood.

Free me from sin and disorder,
That my unique soul
May shout for joy,
Even for the wonder
That I am,
That You rejoice
To reveal me to be
In true humility,
That I may awaken
To give You due
Honor and praise.

Break up the clods
Of my ignorance
And self-satisfaction.
Plow my field cross hatch,
Plant my furrows with gospel seed.
Water me
That I may be a garden
Of hidden delights,
And a comfort to You
In Your rest.

10/9/12

My Bump by the Brown-eyed Keyz- Music Video

Moments of Grace

Prepare me , O Lord,
During those moments of awe,
Even if hampered
By sleep or confusion,
Presumption, even ignorance,
As we're Peter,John, and James
On the mountain
Of Your Transfiguration.
Prepare me for the work
With which You grace me,
In the valley of the world.
Let me remember
Of the mountain experience,
Your Love and Your Glory.
Water the seed of my baptismal faith
With the fresh water
From Your pierced side.
Be as the dew fall
On the grass of my awakening.
Honor the tears of Mother Mary,
As she looked on You,
In the Hour of Your glorification
On the Cross,
To weep with you for me.
Awe struck, I live to praise You.
Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander  All rights reserved

Argument for Size

When we step on an ant,
An ant smaller than a fetus,
We acknowledge killing an ant.
We may not fret about it,
Afterall, it's an ant!
We have the right
To kill an ant.

When a mother, a doctor,
A nurse, a bio-scientist,
Or technician trained in the art,
When a society and a nation,
Curtails the life of a fetus,
All deny killing a human person.
"It's too small to matter."

Do we really believe,
We are doing good?
Do we care beyond
Convenience and profit,
Are we in the right?
Do we have the right?
How big does Truth have to be?

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

10/6/12

That Man, Job


That man, Job,
That sad man, Job,
That mad man, Job,
That angry man,
That suffering and troubled soul,
Behold my man, Job.

Have we not all been there?
Why, O Lord?
Am I not well meaning,
One of the good guys,
A nice person?

Why must the Cross
Touch my life?
Am I not
Like a son to You?

With these words,
He made me see,
"You are, indeed,
Like a Son to Me."

10/4/12

Angelic Companion, Mine

My Angel,
Beholding the face of God,
Guardian by my side,
Attendant friend and guide,
With me from my happy conception,
And faithful companion to my earthly end,
May we,
Who journeyed this pilgrimage
In one another's presence,
Laugh together in heaven.

10/2/12

I Thirst


You showed the way
To live each day,
One cup of water at a time.

You satisfy Man's thirst,
By thirsting first.
We come,
One cup of water at a time.

I live anew to give
As I have received.
One cup of water at a time.

Living water ,
Abundant stream,
Channel Your Life  through me,
One cup of water at a time.


©2012 Joann Nelander

9/28/12

Sounds of Yesterday



Sounds of yesterday play hard against my soul.
Voices shouting through the years,
Silenced as rain upon the shoal.
Sounds of yesterday play hard against my soul
As pillowed sobs still take their toll.
Nothing so hard to bear as tears.
Sounds of yesterday play hard against my soul
Voices shouting through the years. ©2012 Joann Nelander


9/25/12

Truth’s Army, Truth’s Bride

Truth was never far away.
It stood erect,
And with resolve,
Waited for the moment
Of my will's consent.

It was relentless,
Devoid of error,
Stalwart and persistent.

Truth was the beacon
On the high mountain.
It appealed to me
On the level of the good.

It drew me
As home beckons the lost.
I journeyed closer,
But as the light
Revealed my tatters
I drew back,
Trapped by my choices.

Truth is a wedding garment,
That clothes inwardly,
As well as out.
My espousals never produced
A marriage of Truth and the holy.
In its stead, I'd wed
What I wanted.
Now, I feared our distance,
And what I had become.

Desiring the right,
Even if I was wrong,
I gathered courage to my breast
And risked all in the quest.

I shed my rags
And found a covering of prayer,
A robe of humility,
And came to Love
In holy fear.

Now, I am
Full of resolve,
A stalwart knight
On Truth's high mountain,
Carrying lighted torch
To the Dark Valley,
Into caverns of deception.

Standing tall before the Foe,
Truth girds my waist,
And undertakes to speak
Light in the darkness.

I am become an army
On the plain,
As Truth marches not alone.
It goes forth,
Drawing with it men of valor,
Choosing the death of Pride,
And living as Truth's Bride.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

You before the Altar.


Opening my eyes
And lifting my head
From my prayer,
My eyes fell upon you,
My friend.

Your steady gaze
Fixed on the naked Savior,
Your arms crossed
Over your breast
And you,
Lost to this world,
Spoke my prayer.
You, in iconic stature,
Embodied my heart's cry.

Bowing my soul,
I turned within
To pray with clarity
In humble poverty of spirit,
With Faith's certainty,
The Lord had heard,
And smiled on my desire.

Rising with my closing "Amen",
I looked
Only to find your place
Before the altar,
Now abandoned,
Yet the holy sight is seared
On my impressionable spirit.
It lingers still.

Your gifted presence
Shall long capture,
And hold fast
The essence of being
At which I hope to arrive,
In the tabernacle of my heart,
As in pleading it resounds.
Anchored to an image
Of prayerful adoration
Living in my mind's eye.

My God be adored,
And Your children
Forever graced.

9/24/12

You Are the Music

Jesus, You are the music
Playing on the stage of my life.
You are the witness of my acts.
You are my faithful critic.

You behold and hold
My life up to Your Light
That its rays may reveal
The holes in my performance.

Thus seeing,
I wisely turn, and say,
Heal me.
Help me.
Act on my behalf,
For I still don't know
How Love lives my life,
And plays in me,
Save You direct me.

©2012 Joann Nelander

9/19/12

Playing With God


Don't go alone.
Take God dancing.
Swim in Him.
Chase butterflies by His side.
Taste Him in the ice cream.
Try to find Him hiding in broccoli.
Look for Him in a tickle.
God goes undercover in every hug, wink and smile.
You can't miss Him in a kiss.

You are the dimple in God's smile.
He delights in your laughter.
when He throws you in the air,
Never fear, He catches you on the way down.
Did you know, He's got your picture on His fridge?

©2012 Joann Nelander

9/18/12

With Your Name, Jesus

With Your Name, Jesus,
Upon my lips,
Reverberating in my heart,
I pray from the depths
Of our blessed union.
Your Holy Spirit
Forms my prayer,
Born of Faith and Love.
The child, that I am,
Cries, "Abba!"
My tiny arms
Strive to draw closer
My dearest Abba,
As encircling His inclined neck,
And stirring His Fatherly devotion
To one so small,
He kisses me with a glance.
Indulgently, and moved
To an outpouring,
By my frame
In my infancy,
My Abba caresses me
In the peace of angels,
And I live in His shalom.
Copyright  2012 Joann Nelander
Alll rights reserved

9/17/12

Enemy, Mine



Oh, dear enemy,
How you bless me with opportunity,
For prayer,
For patience,
For trust in God,
And to implore His counsel.

You and I are called
To know and love
The Lord Jesus.
Without Him,
There is only Darkness,
And descent
Into greater and greater sin.

Abraham believed,
And it was credited to him,
As justice.
Moses promised the Prophet’s Day.
John the Baptist
Prepared His Way,
And recognized the Lamb
Who would be slain.

Oh, enemy mine,
As we engage in battle
For men's's souls,
Let us take care
Not to lose our own.

Abraham was the Father
Of a race,
Who would love
And serve the True God.
Moses was a trusted servant,
John was the best man,
Greater than all born of woman.

To these God revealed Himself.
Each had his day,
Then departed,
And made way,
That the Name of God
Revealed to Joseph
And the humble Virgin,
Might capture the hearts
Of the enemies of God,
Living in Sin.

Loving us,
While we were yet sinners,
He won the battle,
We now fight.
He is and will be the only victor,
With those who fear not recognize Him,
Rush to His Side,
And bow under his Banner
Of Love and Mercy.

O, enemy mine,
We were partners in Sin,
Let us become partners in Love,
Beneath the Cross of One,
Who in dying bore the Curse
And reconciled the world
To "Abba" God.


©2012 Joann Nelander

9/12/12

Ceaseless Prayer


Ceaseless the prayer You desire of me.
Your Eyes behold me.
You wait for me to lift my eyes
From the world
To gaze heavenward,
To behold You smiling upon me.
You long for our eyes to meet
In an exchange of love
And longing.

Ceaseless prayer is no less
Than a return of Love's attention,
Glances passed one to the Other,
Constancy of care,
Attentive watchfulness.

Hearts speak in wordless knowing
All the while willing to know and be known.
The Greater gifting the lesser
With nothing less than His own Life.

The world becomes a room
Filled with the Light You shed
As I become a candle
Held in the Hand of God,
Melting in a pool,
Readied for a new mold,
True to the goodness
God gives me,
As He beholds
His creation from eternity
And says throughout Time
"It is good. "

©2012  Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

9/11/12

With Angels Delighting

Your Cherubim move with You,
Or hover aloft,
All to Your desire.

My wheels are spinning, my God.
I am neither still
Nor moving with You.

Help me to wait upon Your Word,
Until I am sent.
Filled with your peace,
My comings and goings please You,
As works of faith and love.

In stillness prepare
My heart to journey forth,
Only by Your leave
And grace.
Then shall our union
Bring forth the works
You perfect in me
As a child of Your Heart,
Doing that which I see my Father doing,
As the obedient angels,
Who serve and delight You.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

9/7/12

My God

When is the salutation "My God",
More realized
Than when Jesus embraces us
In the reception of Eucharist?

I Call You Friends

God has given us
A special place in His Heart.
He calls us "Friend."

Do not doubt Him,
By judging yourself or others
Before the time of Judgment.
 
Wait upon God working in you and me
For our good, blessing,
And finally our perfection.

Strive to be a friend of God.
Be a good steward of His friendship,
And this precious time
Working in His Vineyard.

9/6/12

Who Am I?

Who Am I?
You, Father God,
Revealed Yourself
To Your servant Moses.
"I am Who Am. "

You are existence
In uncreated simplicity
And immaterial totality.
My thoughts and knowledge
Are without substance or form,
A mystery of being,
An image of Your Essence.

My prayer is a begging
To shape the me of me
Into the Person of Your Son,
That my "I am,"
Be as You Are.

May what I will be
Take Life
In Your Only Begotten One,
To make me
Fit for Familial Love,
When mortal life be done.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

9/2/12

O Splendid Truth, Our Father


Jesus, You didn''t say,
"Pretend My Father
Is your father."
Or, "Imagine, if my Father
Were your father."

No! Your prayer revealed
God as our Father.
What Love!
What Mystery!
What Splendid Truth!

©2012 Joann Nelander

Fiat

"Fiat"
To Mary's "Fiat,"
Oh say, "Amen.  Amen.  Amen."

"Fiat," my gift to You, my King.
I give You,
Here in my heart,
Mary's "Fiat.",
That so inflamed the Heart of the Father,
That He gave her His Kingdom,
Enfleshed in His Son.

The instant Mary formed
Her ascent to the Will of God,
In her heart and mind,
And formed the word, "Fiat."
God began His Human Life
In the womb of the Virgin.

O Mary, more than a Chalice,
For of your seed sprang the God-Man,
Fully human,
Fully Divine,
Of You in the Spirit,
Eucharist conceived
In Immaculate Splendor.

Thanksgiving began
In the heaven of your soul,
And took flesh
From the heaven of your being.
Amen. Amen. Amen.

Father, my gift to You this morning,
Mary's "Fiat".
May it ring out
From this lowly earth,
That heaven come down,
And live among Men.

Rain down Truth and Beauty,
Born of a Virgin,
His Body forever bearing
Her donation.
Mystery, Divine,
Remember Your Love
Throughtout Time.

©2012 Joann Nelander

8/30/12

Listening and Silent

It seems ...
I am always talking to You,
That I am always with You,
And have no doubt
You are with me.
Listening and silent.

I am an endless monologue.
You, hovering Spirit,
Wordlessly eloquent abide.
You are Presence and Truth,
Listening and silent,
Thunderously silent,
Save for the stirring of my heart,
And the sometime rush of thought,
Coming, as it were,
From the bowels of my being
With frightening conviction,
And challenging my reticence
To speak aloud
The thoughts of solitude.

Reluctant always  to go about,
And leave the cloister of my heart,
Where in Your chambers I find,
And hold dear,
Private audience with the King,

The world without is a noisy charade.
It woos the pride of me take center stage.
Where suddenly I realize
I have been talking much too much
To my regret.
I, naggingly, suspect
I have diminished
That which was my treasure
And ceased to learn.
Cacophony of me,
I cease to learn and simply rearrange
That with which I am familiar.

Where do prophets, poets and a would-be recluse,
Find a voice if not in You,
Rejecting even audience
To find You in my silence, Your silence.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2011

All rights reserved

8/28/12

God on the Horizon


Lord, I rejoice to hear Your Voice
Echoing in my soul.
Through Your Word,
I have come to recognize that Voice
Even amidst the chaos of the world.

"Come to Me"
"Do not be afraid"
"Stand firm"
"Your God is in your midst. "

Heaven sings "My Lord" on the horizon.
Spanning the day with Your herald,
Coming forth with the
dawn,
His notes color the firmament
In a symphony of splendor.
Playing with hues
As with a pipe organ,
He pulls out the stops in promise,
Until he captures the morn and subdued it.

Making it His own
In the mystery of You, O Lord.
He whispers to listening hearts,
"You are the Light of the world"

With eventide He strides
As Day's work done.
Then God calls home the Sun.
But not without a closing hoorah.
As over hill and dale,
He paints for fun,
And angelic artists
Shout His blazing Glory.

All is put to bed
'Neathe a cloak of many colors,
Finally, dimming their voices
In lullabys of peace
To sleep in childlike slumber,
Save for He, Who slumbers not.

God on the horizon,
Sun to sun,
Labor swallowed up in trust,
To await His Coming
In both darkness and the dawn,
All my life long.


©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

8/27/12

Abiding All the While


We await Your Second Coming, O, Lord,
But, in reality, You have never left us.
Your Body and Blood,
Upon the altar of Your Presence,
Witness to Your People, Your constancy.

Before Your dying upon the Cross,
You prepared a Body for Yourself in the Church,
Embracing those who would soon desert You,
Feeding the Apostles the very Flesh,
That would so soon be scourged.
Giving them as drink,
The very blood to be poured upon the ground,
Staining pillar and the coarse streets of the city,
Whose people had welcome and acclaimed You,
In Your wonders and power,
Only to decry your claim upon their hearts,
And flee to the side of worldly power and might.

Though You never left us,
How soon we forgot You,
You, Who cannot forget
Those You chose to be Your Body on Earth,
And were called to remember You
Upon at the Table of Your Presence
Transforming bread and wine,
To mend and enable a broken people,
To experience Salvation,
In the Divine Intimacy as friends.

Holy Presence,
Remain always in my heart,
That looking inward,
My stained garment may be purified in penitence,
Bleached white in Your Light,
And my eyes behold Your image as Promise,
Wooing me from world and worry.

May Your Second Coming find me with You
In this world or in the next,
As bride with her Bridegroom,
Your beloved beholding Her Love.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved





8/21/12

Work of Love


Make of every heart a tabernacle,
A holy space,
Home to Thee,
An ark,
A Mercy seat,
Where Cherubim
Spread their wings
And constantly adore.

May heaven alight
On one who prays,
And rest on that blessed soul,
As Pentecost anew.

Across the face of the earth
Find hallowed home,
Ciborium for Thy Blood,
Chalice to cup Thy loveliness,
And priestly hands to hold Thee aloft,
To smile upon Your world in dire need.

Be,  O, Bread of angels,
Ever present on Your altar,
Closer than my breath,
Friend and companion
Light and Bridegroom,
All in all,
Everywhere and everyone
Transforming,
Sinner to saint,
And temple of Your Holy Spirit.

©2012 Joann Nelander

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Courts of Praise

This poem was written to express celebration at Easter.  Everyday ordinary day is so full of God’s choice blessings, that praise should flow from every corner of the earth. In the deepest darkness, may hope arise through praise of God.

I invite you to linger a while and add a stanza.

Courts of Praise

Thank you, my Lord, for my life long,
For beloved family and friends,
And all dear hearts touching mine.

My treasure trove of souls
Spills far beyond my time
To number as my own
Those who have gone before,
Your saints of ages past,
The cloud of witnesses on high
And pure angelic beings
In realms veiled from the eye.

There never was a day
In which I was alone,
Nor forgotten
Before Your throne.

There, at Your feet,
All heaven sweet anthems raise,
To set celestial hearts ablaze.
My heart, in chorus,
Swells, dilating in love,
Grown great in gratitude.

Beside Your All Love,
I make small return.
You count my debt as paid,
And bid me enter courts of praise.

©2011 Joann Nelander

8/16/12

Come Forth



Call to me, loudly command,
When you call me forth
From the grave of my sin,
I rejoice.

When, on the Last Day,
You call me forth from the tomb,
From my burial rest,
I shall jubilantly rejoice.

With the saints,
And angels to cheer me,
Invite and speak my name,
Command, "Come forth!"
Death shall cower and fall away,
And the perfume of sanctity
Attend me.

My cloud of witnesses
Testify to Your many mercies
Showered and shown me.

Then shall my heart sing
And the feet of my testimony dance
To the music of Your Kingdom
And the song of Mary,
Who sang lullabies in my rest
Upon Your breast.

©2012 Joann Nelander

8/14/12

Free to Love

I choose to love you Lord.
My free will is Your gift.
I can decide Your Way too narrow,
And banish You
From my mind, my home, my life,
And the world about me.

I am free to celebrate gods,
I fashion as my own,
To revel in idolatry,
To exult with the mocking crowds
Making fun and sport of You,
You, Who are "so out of touch."

You have fallen from fashion.
Your Cross, an embarrassment.
This world demands signs,
And leeks, and onions,
And grande cappacinos.

No, You will not stop me.
Without Your grace,
I can not stop myself.
I seem at times to prefer
The company of men,
All who purport to know.

Truth, though, gives witness
To a milieu
Of blatant braggadocio
With holes,
Through which their errors flow
To seed a field with tares.
For a prideful people
Seeking a rose garden,
Yet only thistles grow.

I choose to love You, Lord.
Be Sun to my darkness,
Be my Light
That I might see.
Protect and command me,
That I might obey.
Love demands freedom.
Freely, I turn to Thee.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Who Is the Poorest of the Poor

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bare of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it's first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it's cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called "Beloved"
And "Poor No More".

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Mary, the Violin


Mary, Virgin, Mother of God,
The perfectly fashioned,
And tuned instrument,
A violin,
In the hands of God,
As He plays His music
For the Son.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Make of Me a Vessel

Lord , make of me, a vessel,
Filled to over-flowing with my God.
Transform my water,
That becoming wine,
I may be poured out
At His will and direction,
As medicine and libation,
For body, mind and soul,
Ever joyful in purity,
And grateful in thanksgiving.
Amen.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

8/12/12

To Love You More

I live to love you more, O Lord.

Until now, O King,
I labored long for little.
I trusted to myself,
And drew life
From diminishing waters.

Famine and draught
Were upon the land,
For Sin had dried the well of plenty.
My nights were beset with worry,
And the day exhausted my meager stores.

I drew my energy
From the food of swine,
Never in short supply,
For the world, the flesh and the devil
Fed upon me,
And left, as my swill, their refuse.
Never satisfied, I cried.
My avarice outstripped my pride.
Only my growing greed kept stride.

Clouds descended
As night became my guide,
For hope is a thing of prayer,
And my prayer ceased
As from the Sun, I'd hide.

Death, the abode of Sin,
Fought to claim its prize,
And I, all but entered in,
Save for a memory,
Gleaned, as I remembered simpler times,
And leaned upon prayers said for me.

How now to thank
That faith-filled lot,
Who pled for me,
And spoke of He
Who bled to free.

I live anew,
Tears, my livery,
Shed in wanting You.
Feasting in abundant banquet,
My bread, Your Body, my Kingly Core,
Now and forever, in Eternity, O, Lord,
I live to love You more.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

8/10/12

Waxing Proud

I left You long ago,
To wander in a world of choices,
Bombarded by alluring voices.

I left at home
All cords that bound,
Proudly casting off all staked to holy ground.

I soared mounting the wind,
On Icharus' wings waxed proud,
'Til sun and heat spoke Truth aloud.

I left You long ago.
Now in swift descent I fall,
Humbled, hoping to be caught by Lord of All.

8/6/12

Unusual Gifts

Way back when, I discovered an usual gift, which I exercised for a time. It wasn’t as though, I possessed it. It seemed more like a cooperation, of sorts, in faith.  It started when my friend, Charlotte, came up to me after a prayer meeting, and asked if she could share a vision God had shown her of me. Puzzled, a bit wary, and, definitely curious, I said, “Sure!”

Charlotte described a picture vision. Jesus first showed her a big, shiny apple; as she beheld it, it turned around. On the other side, there was apple pie, apple sauce, apple jam, apple butter, apple fritters, and the array went on and on. Needless, to say, I felt blessed and humbled.

I thanked the Lord in prayer and asked Him, “What about Charlotte?” I had to smile, as I understood that one fruit alone couldn’t describe her. Chiquita Banana danced in my mind’s eye, with a headdress full of beautiful, colorful and exotic fruit. It really did describe Charlotte, for she was a gifted lady with gifts of leadership, counsel and music, to name just a few. Of course, I shared my prayer’s answer with Charlotte, to her delight.

I remember hearing, once upon a time, that what we receive as a gift, we are expected to share as a gift. Not long after these experiences, I was relating the tale, to a friend, who immediately asked, “What kind of fruit am I?” I didn’t expect that, and had no answer for her that day. I took it to Jesus, in prayer, as I said I would. The Lord surprised me with an immediate answer. “Pineapple.” That, too, was a surprise. I guess “pineapple” was not on my short list of normal fruits. I told Esther, and proceeded to tell her what else I heard. I understood that she had been equipped by the Lord with a rugged exterior protecting her in life. This outer toughness had guarded her succulent inner being, so sensitive and sweet. Esther smiled as I spoke, and then said, “I knew you would say, ‘pineapple’.” Since pineapple wasn’t even on my list of fruits that jump out at you, I asked, why the pineapple? Esther said  that throughout her marriage, right up to the present, pineapple has been her daily lunch. I took that as happy confirmation.

When I told this story, others also asked, “What fruit am I?” Each time I hesitantly approached the Lord. He never disappointed. I remember a few answers that were unusual. One lovely, prayerful and generous, lady was identified not by a fruit, but the flower of the fruit, an orange blossom, worn by a bride. When asking, at my pastor’s request, Jesus, answered me, saying, “He’s the dimple in my smile.”  My daughter, Carolyn’s answer, was not a fruit, but the wood of a tree, “The cherry tree, rich, and solid and beautiful.” She went off smiling to get ready for her day. She came back, a few minutes later, obviously taken aback, and in awe. She simply placed her compact in my hand and said “Read the back.” It read, “Cherry Wood.”

7/31/12

Glory Dwelling in the Land

From my small domain,
A mere spot
On the face of the Earth,
Shine out!

Like a monstrance,
Held high before me,
Give light to a world
In need.

O You, my Eucharist,
Heart of Love
Rule my heart.
Soul of sanctity
Convert all peoples.
Holy Truth,
Go forth to illuminate the Nations.
Then shall the heavens witness,
Your "glory dwelling in the land."

©2012  Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

7/27/12

Remembering You (For Jackie)

This year my Mt. Sinai Hospital School of  Nursing class of "62 celebrated their 50th year since graduating as RNs.

My dear friend Jackie Meyer Ferguson fulfilled her dream of attending with great happiness and satisfaction.  This poem honors her memory:

Remembering You ( for Jackie)

Remembering you
Has filled my days of late.
Long years,
Seasoned with friendship’s bond,
Salted with holiday greetings,
Connect an ever-present past
To new songs,
Carried on the wind.

Can yesterday
Be so far away?
Reveries, dotted
With the chatter of friends,
Done up in blue scotch plaid,
Call along the hallways.

White polished shoes ,
Set for a new day,
Watch, as after-hours laughter
Draws friends from the rafters.

Amid the pages
Yet to study,
Tales of the day
Grow in the retelling,
With magic to chase
Nervous phantoms
From the heart,
Plucking courage
In camaraderie.

I see your long tresses
Haloed in the sunshine,
And your dancing hips,
Twisting in laughing remembrances.

Saucy, bright, and alive,
So determined
For one so young,
Tempered and steeled
Triumphant,
The preamble
Of battles yet to conquer.

As a door closes,
Windows remain open,
For the soul
To cast a winking eye,
Assuring all,
That eternity holds
Places in the heart,
For organdy capped
Sisters in white,
Never to depart.

©2012 Joann Nelander

7/21/12

Prayer

Words are swirling
Like leaves,
Lifted heavenward,
On bursts of emotion,
Only to settle quietly,
As the storm of love passes
Into Abiding Presence.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

7/17/12

Home, Hearth, and Throne

Mother Mary,
You were with Jesus
From the instant
Of His Incarnation.
With your "Fiat",
The Promise
Became a Man,
Dwelling with you,
In profound peace
And humility.
It was you
Who knew
This first intimacy,
Who cherished and adored.
Who waited upon Him,
With heart,
And mind,
And body.
The only eyes
That could see Him
At this tender age,
Were yours,
As you gazed on Him
With the eyes
Of your intellect
And soul.
An inward glance
Set your Immaculate Heart ablaze,
As you became,
Home and hearth,
And throne,
For a Child of one cell,
Growing, and destined
To rule the world,
As He had reigned
From eternity.
A Man like no other
And, yet,
Intimately,
One with all.
Open our eyes
To your Son.
With the Centurion,
Who presided
Over the Crucifixion
Of the Christ,
And opened His Side,
End our idolatry,
So we, too, cry
"My Lord and my God."
Mother Mary,
Behold your Son
In me.
Prepare me to be
Home and hearth
And throne,
For Christ alone.
©2012 Joann Nelander