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.
My many sins
Have gone up in flames,
And all that is left,
You deem holy.
©2012 Joann Nelander
“Fiat.”
To Mary’s “Fiat,”
I 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 Your Father,
That He gave her His Kingdom,
Enfleshing You, His Son.
The instant Mary formed her ascent in her heart and mind,
And her lips forms the word “Fiat”,
You, my God, began Your Human life in the womb of the Virgin.
O Mary, more than a chalice,
For of your seed sprang God,
Fully human, Fully Divine ,
Of you,
Eucharist was 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, throughout Time.
©2011 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
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
We await Your Second Coming, O Lord.
In reality, You 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 Your Apostles the very Flesh,
That would so soon be scourged.
Giving Your Chosen, as drink,
The very Blood destined 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
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
Be Holy! 