With Veronica

With Veronica,
I want to bathe Your Wounds.
Time and place are no obstacle.
You, in eternity, possess all.
Possess my heart,
And my poor intentions,
Render them pure and holy.

Wiping the spittle from Your Adorable Face,
I weep at Your disfigurement at the hands of Man.
I, in my time and turn, have looked away.
Here, with You, in prayer,
I turn back,
That my present ministries
May touch Your Body,
Alive, suffering in purgation,
Battling with the help of Heaven on Earth,
And triumphant with our Father in glory.

Mysteriously, my wounds,
And warts are healed,
My misery comprehended and mended,
By Your merciful gaze,
My shame surrendered,
And supplanted,
With your look of Love.

With Veronica,
I reach out,
Only to receive back,
My dignity,
I stoop,
To rise with You,
My Hope,
True Image of Our Father’s Love.

©2015 Joann Nelander

 

* The Latin meaning of the name Veronica is “True Image” (vera icon)

Keep Praying

Here I am,
Your poor one,
Your lowly one,
Your empty one,
Kneeling in adoration..

You spread out Space and Time,
Knowing You would call me forth.
And then You did.

You called to me,
Forming me from the Earth,
You Who played among the Pleides,
Stooped to play with me.

You kissed me,
With the Breath of Your Mouth,
You filled me,
Shaping me,
Empowering me,
Placing in me a formless hope.

Hope grew with the babe,
And sought with fingers of my senses.
Peeling back the covering of Mystery,
Revealing treasures hidden in the earth,
And dancing in the heavens,

Witnessed with wonder in the Night,
The Universe invited me to You,
To join You in the dance,
For which all Time and Space,
All days and all nights,
All mystery had poured forth,
With Your Cry for Light.

Your Heartbeat created the rhythms of the constellations,
The ebb and flow of cosmic seas.
Your Heart beat for Your dream of Man,
Your dream of me.

You, given as gift,
Hidden from blind eyes,
Hidden among the stars,
Spreading across Your Time,
Filling all Your Majestic Space,
Slowly whispering Your secrets,
And revealing truths,
Revealed Ultimate Truth.
You in Your Way spoke to me.

There was more than matter wrapped in my being.
Secreted without shape,
Without form,
Without stuff,
With only the power to will,
And, thereby, to Love,
To know,
And, thereby, to seek and search,
That, in living, I might come to discover You,
With me, beside me and all around me,
Waiting for me to love You.

You, Who always knew me,
And loved me,
In my ignorance,
In my blindness
And in my very being,
Even while Sin entered in to obscure Your work,
And the wonder of me,
Graced me with a soul.

I didn’t know You.
I couldn’t see You.
I didn’t know to seek after You.
Until I saw You hanging there,
Crossing the abyss,
Above the world,
Suspended and told throughout Time,

Now, at long last, I pray,
And gasp for You, my Breath.
You are the shape of me,
Saved for an eternity
Beyond gaseous matter,
And starry night,
A Day created by the One Uncreated,
And lived in the Wedding
Of Love, of soul and Spirit-being.
For this I will,
With my indomitable will,
Keep praying.

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

Resting, Silent

 

virginofvladimir1

Virgin of Vladimir by the hand of JOANN NELANDER

n silence I wait, silent.
Thanksgiving and praise have created the dome about me,
As angels carry their worshipful sound
And sing my song before the Throne of God.
I am implicitly carried with their melody,
Hidden in the words playing before my God.

The Gates open to admit my presence.
I enter, bowing low,
And I am lifted on high.
Kissing the cheek of my Savior,
I wrap my arms about His Neck,
As He on earth,
Loving embraced His virginal Mother
With an all holy and forever Love.

I rest in Your Sabbath Rest,
Gathering strength for the storm,
That Your Triumph may rain down blessing,
To make all days Your Day.

Here in silence, You whisper.
And, yet, is it not, the glorious and triumphal Shout?
Reign, my Savior and King, in your little ones
Longing for You and the Eternal Rest.

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

The Robe

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

Gathering Flowers

As a child,
Gathering flowers in a meadow,
I spend these hours
By your side, dear Mother.

Happily, you kiss each bloom,
I offer, playfully, to your lips.
Bunching them as a bouquet,
I press them into your hands,
And you, as mother’s do,
Press them to your heart.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Call to Prayer

Call to Prayer

I know we are connected,
As nerve to muscle,
Sinew to bone,
Cell to cell,
Form and function
In call to action.

One holy Body,
Unique and alive,
Spirit pervading,
Each beloved member
All in humble subjugation,
Saintly suffusion,
As wills unite
In sanctified perfusion.

All unknowing, know by faith
The Father loving the Son.
Jesus, You are my prayer.
Held aloft in priestly hands,
You are we
A chorus of hearts,
Raised on the altar of the Cross.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Joann Nelander
lionessblog.com