Category Archives: All Things Catholic

The Least of These

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Jesus, Son of God,
Human and divine,
Reign at the core of my being.

In Eucharist,
You supply all.
You are cause and sustenance.

My Lord, my Lover, my holy Meal,
Giver of Gifts,
I place my all at Your service.

As rays of the Sun,
Shining and emitted for Your glory,
Unite my heart with Your Church.

Send forth Your Spirit,
Purifying as purgative flame,
The Church Militant and Suffering.

You, Savior, Victor, King,
Regard and guard “the least of these”,
Going forth from Your Most Sacred Heart.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

NOW FOR ETERNITY

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All days have led to this day.
Yesterdays march up to the edge in Time,
But cannot enter upon my Now.

As precursors they stand,
Peering onto this Today,
Blind as bats.
Their edges approach
But halt at the Present.

Here I reign with my will.
If all my mistakes
Shout for change,
Am I now the fool
Who fails to learn?

With the sun,
I am begun.
Eternity beckons me,
Where Time cannot go,
Invites, “Come.”

He, Who sails on Eternity’s Wing,
Would be my Mender,
Not in a breaking of the Past,
But a knitting of it,
A seamless cloth,
As His very own.

The morrow begins as a Way I choose;
Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
Are gift to my being,
And beginning in this Now,
I am His.

©2015 Joann Nelander

The Cross and the Furnace,

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I want to spend my day loving You
And embracing life as You send It to me.
Nothing comes but by Your Will,.

Not that I haven’t thwarted Your Will.
I have!
I know I have,
But even as this moment
Bears the imprint of the hammer,
That struck the nails impaling You on Your Cross,
The Cross remained Yours,
And Your All Holy, All Chosen Will,
All of Your choosing
From the beginning of Time.

You are above Sin,
Above my sin and error,
The New Adam,
Obedient to the Father,
A Trinity of Union,
In Love.

By the Will of God ,
And the hand of man,
All infraction of the Divine Will
Was nailed to Your Holy Cross.
In You, I die to Sin,
And rise to live Your Dying
In my day.

In You,
Given for Men
Given for me,
I live God’s permissive Will,
Fashioned for me,
In the purifying furnace
Of His Perfect Will.

In this new day,
I choose the Cross and the Furnace,
I choose You,
Who are forging a union of hearts,
Perfect Love loving Man,
Desiring the perfection of every man,
Loving and perfecting me.

(C) 2016 Joann Nelander

Song of My Heart

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I sing my song of love to Thee,
My God, in Persons, Holy Three,
My Three, as You desire to be,
Have come to earth to succor me.

I, who pine, wanting Thee to please,
Lift heart and hands upon my knees,
Hoping, True God, for Thee to live,
For Your Heart beats but to forgive.

©2016 Joann Nelander

Love Sweeter Than

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Your love is sweeter than the honey dripping upon the lover’s tongue,
Sweeter than wine that wakens the palate to new delight.
Your love is aroma and taste penetrating the heart.
It is the roof growing higher,
And foundation of my world,
Glimpsing heaven and begging it near.

Your love is sweeter than my life.
It is invitation and enticement,
Known and unknowing,
Higher than happiness,
Straining to the Holy.

Your Love is the beginning and end of Life.
Falling on the world,
Drop by drop,
Yet, like a river in flood,
Endless and eternal,
The crossing of Now and Forever
Meeting in my bossom,
Drawing me free from myself,
Into You.

In Your thirst
You are all poverty,
Hungry,
And yet all supplying,
Giving and spent,
Still full in Your Emptiness.

Your Love is sweeter than this life,
Holy with promise,
You ring my heart with longing
And satisfy my depths and queries.
With Truth, You show me the heaven of Your Heart,
And bid me “Come.”

© 2016 Joann Nelander

I Listened as a Tulip Spoke

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I listened as a tulip spoke.
Perched on her podium,
She sat in Your sunshine,
There upon my table,
Her feet wet upon stones,
Emersed from crystalline life.
No tongue could speak such eloquence.
How stately and sincere.

Earlier she had bowed low,
Her back broken,
Unable to lift her head or eyes to heaven,
But, now, she sings in colorful delight.
Her tones strum my heart’s ear.
Spritely, she smiles for having her fill
From fountains that rushed
To quench her thirst.

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She looks at You,
And preaches me a homily
Of prismatic delicacy,
And beauteous design.
Her eyes reach to finger my spirit
With the flash of black on gold,
Your Love written in her petals
Sing to my soul.

©2016 Joann Nelander