Daily Archives: January 12, 2015

Arm in Arm

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Imagine a human sea,
Throng upon throng,
Gathered across Europe,
Arm in arm.

Regard the multitudes,
Witness of flesh,
Standing tall,
Staring down terror and the terrible,
Arm in arm.

A proclamation for peace,
For life, for freedom,
In the aftermath of death,
To face the future,
Arm in arm.

A call to arms:
Arms to embrace,
Arms to hold dear,
Arms to forge,

Arm in arm.

Draw from tragedy’s furnace,

Amidst the sweat and blood,

Humanity’s last hope,

(For need of each other),

Arm in arm.

Joann Nelander

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image a human sea,
Throng upon throng,
Gathered across Europe,
Arm in arm.

Regard the multitudes,
Witness of flesh,
Standing tall,
Staring down terror and the terrible,
Arm in arm.

A proclamation for peace,
For life, for freedom,
In the aftermath of death,
To face the future,
Arm in arm.

A call to arms:
Arms to embrace,
Arms to hold dear,
Arms to forge, in heart-felt resolve,
In the furnace of trial, tears and tragedy,
An alliance of hope,
Arm in arm.

Joann Nelander

Here I Am

by

Here I am, beneath your heart,
My heart beating in happy harmony,
As my frame perceives
The gentle throbbing within your breast,
Serene.

I began in secret and in darkness,
A mystery, even to myself.
Day by day, nature shapes my clay,
As you await the blessed dawn of my birth day.

What I know, I know by existence.
I am now all trust,
Simply growing,
Simply becoming who I am.

Comfort, you give comfort.
Love, you are all I know of love.
As you wait for me, my mother,
The eyes of my soul are wide open.
I behold you, smiling upon me.

Expectant, vigilant and gleeful,
Mother of my moments,
You cradle me.
You are my home of sweet delight.

© 2011  Joann Nelander

The Robe

by

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