The Lord’s Joy

The Lord’s joy
Is my strength.
He persuades my heart
By gentleness.
His mercy is a fountain
Of inner mirth,
Springing up in all seasons,
To temper my sorrow,
To pour oil into my wounds,
To salt my friendships
And to delight the Father,
Who sees me
Running after His Son,
And dancing with David’s abandonment.

May I be the dimple
In Your smile,
Appealing as the uplifted arms
Of a child,
And the innocent sleep
Of a baby.

Gladness be my swaddling,
That You may
Impart to me
The power the weak
Have to touch
The Heart of God,
Accepting always
His Loving will.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander

People of Praise

Your people praise you, O Lord.
As points of light,
Scattered about
The surface of the Earth.
Together with angelic choirs,
That dot the firmament,
Your children sing.

With fish, and bird,
With rivers and seas,
With mountains,
And heavenly heights,
Creation sings in chorus,
Affirmation,
Acclamation,
And affection,
In sanctifying hosannas,
That fall as bountiful rain,
To water man and beast
With fruitful exaltation,
Multiplying our delight,
As we magnify our God.

We are your mothers,
Fathers, sisters,
Brothers, friends
Of Your fold,
Returning praise,
And worship due
The Most High Lord
Of all creation.
In Your Light we
Become Your Light.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

Beholding Past, Present & Future

christ_of_saint_john_of_the_cross

In Time,
Yet above it,
Beholding Past, Present and Future,
Christ, look upon my fore-bearers,
Still alive by virtue of an immortal soul.

Look upon my world, spinning in Space,
Held in its journey through Time,
By Your Father’s Almighty Word,
Destined for Judgement,
Bequeathed Mercy.

Look upon me,
In my time,
In my place,
On my journey.

My Jesus, Mercy.

 

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,
Becoming yet another ghost,
Withered as leaves,
Crumbled, and carried aloft
By winter winds,
Too soon scattered
By the breezes of Time.

Is it truly spent,
Dead and long forgotten,
Living but in memory?
May not reflection
Call it from the grave,
Uncover the gain
Hold it fast
To live again?

How has its many waters
Blessed thee and me,
As sacred signs?
Will it, as muse, retain a power
For its having been,
And then no more?

What saints and angels
Sent my way,
Colored its day?
In sorrow,
Who came to hold my hand?
In joy,
Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,
And laughter to tilt the scale of grief?
Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,
That fires of love be stoked
To warm and blaze anew?

Has my thanksgivings
Been recorded in the pyre,
Written in the embers now glowing
As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,
But let them not hurry
To a crypt without a wake.
Drink the happy wine of memory,
Sip, as the seasons turn.
Contemplate and savor
The seasons of your soul.

©2011  Joann Nelander

Bishop Barron on Mother Angelica

Can Heaven Be Made More Glorious

If heaven can be made more glorious,
Make it so, my Lord.

If the honor and respect,  I show,
Sinner, though I am,
Can render
Your saints more glory,
For the light
They shine on men,
Make it so, my Lord.

If the blood of martyrs,
Can again be received
Before Your throne,
Mingled with the Blood of Christ,
That coursed their veins,
And flowed out
As rivers.
To wash the Nations
And praise Your Holy Name,
Make it so, my Lord.

All time is Now
In Your Eternity.
Your battles,
Though waging on earth,
Have all been won,
And presented to You
In Your Son.

“Thy Kingdom come!”
You make it so , O my Lord.

©2012 Joann Nelander

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