Shawl of Prayer

Death walks,
Hooded and insolent.
It stalks,
Brandishing fear,
That none, but the tried,
Remain true.
They, by vow and vigil,
Are wed and bound.

Where comes the glue,
To hold fast,
To see it thru.
Who renders fortitude
To stay the course,
Stretch to the measure,
Fight to preserve the Treasure.

Fast and pray,
They are want to say.
Put not aside,
The shawl of prayer.
Let incense fill the air.

Here at the altar of sacrifice,
Lay down your heavy heart.
Now’s the time.
Mustard the children!
Yes, the children, and childlike, too!

Humanity,
Purchased on the Tree,
Be one with me.
Cast off the fear of Death.

Aside saints and angels,
Battles need be fought.
Victory, with Christ’s Blood, bought.
For peace descends,
Lowered from heaven,
To render “unclean” cleansed.

With priestly words,
Transforming gifts
Of bread and wine,
That sate the hungry
In Love, we dine.

“More than a conqueror”
O, Holy Flesh
Of Bethlehem’s crèche,
And Golgotha’s Cross,
Now, and unto eternity,
In triumph, and in mercy,
Reign.

C 2020 Joann Nelander

 

Sabath Rest

Sing Praise

God fills the universe with His music.

Every beat of the praying heart sings glory to God.

Come let us wake up the morning.

Let us settle as dew across America’s plains.

Let us declare with her mountains the grandeur of the Lord.

It is He that feeds our hungry and grieves with the sorrowful soul.

He Who wraps His arms around a repentant heart.

He Who binds up our wounds and secures our homes to give us Sabath Rest.

By Joann Nelander

Heartbeat

Heartbeat

It is not I who cause my heart to beat.
I am the recipient of life,
The legatee of form.
My heartbeat continues, unabated,
Until You say, this much and no more,
Then and only then,
Will my soul take leave,
Departing this earth, this time.

I will my heart’s beating,
Sound as a prayer in Your ear,
That You may hear me murmuring love,
Throbbing with desire in my groaning,
That my imperfection resound as supplication,
Beating upon Your breast, a plaintiff reverberation,
Crying and wooing,
As a babe trusting, trusting.

© 2016 Joann Nelander