Garden of the Lord

Sweet Mother, come to me.
Visit my ground.
See my wild, unruly state.
Take pity,
Take time,
Take me.
In your holy vision,
Contemplate the Face of your Son,
Recreate His countenance in Me.
Clear me.
Clean me.
Cultivate me.
Come again, and again, and again,
Work the miracle of grace upon grace.
With hand,
With hoe,
Sun and rain.
Make of me a garden.
Prepare it by your prayer, and presence.
For His good pleasure.
Plant seeds.
Envision beauty.
Raise roses.
Then, on this plain of your true humility,
Raise me for His pure delight,
Here to welcome heaven,
To sing, to play, to dance.

By Joann Nelander

Anchor

Hope, an anchor tossed,
Plummeting to fathomless deep,
Careless of the cost.
Hope, an anchor tossed,
Implacable, while storms accost.
Faith, the ground, the keep.
Hope an anchor tossed,
Plummeting to fathomless deep

Copyright Joann Nelander

(experimental triolet)

Clinging

Clinging, clinging to You,
As a leaf clasping the vine
With mouth pressed
And soul hungry,
Receiving in its will
Sustenance and vigor.

Stress, season, time,
And the tempters three,
World, Devil and fleshy me,
Turn, test and try resolve.

Clinging, I cling,
Clasping fast,
For only the glue of love
Suffice as bond,
To quell and conquer,
The wanton, the unruly.
For the Conqueror abides in me,
I cling to the Almighty Three.

Copyright 2011 Joann Nelander

Be the Sun in Me

Be, O Lord, the Sun in me.
Despite, my clouds,
Masking Your Beauty,

Be seen as light invisible,
Going forth, in the Spirit,
To the world,
A world in need of Revelation.

Pierce the veil of my travail.
Linger long to suffer my malaise,
My unsettled wine.

By grace, bless me,
As you bless those blind
To Your Presence in me.

Sacrament and penance,
My claim upon Your Heart.
Light, undiminished,
Under my bushel,
Burning bright within my core,
Make of me a lampstand,
In Your Father’s House.

Be, O, Lord, The Sun in Me,
for a world
In need of illumination.