A Thousand Thousand Trumpets

A thousand thousand trumpets mark Your path.
The lips of angels tremble and anticipate
As hour fast approaches,
For Gabriel’s stormy blast
Ushering the Age’s end,
When on the clouds You will descend,
To come again as way You went .

Sun of Justice with Spirit Sword,
Your Word, to cut
Between the marrow and the bone,
All that stands the test of Fire,
You gather home.

Refuse and stubble
Immolated in furnace heat,
As passing in Your hallowedness
You devour all that is not meet.

The trumpets’ blare gives way
To music of celestial harps,
And Miriam song sounded strong.
As the martyrs chime,
Finally coming forth from beneath the Altar,
To sing their tune and time.

Holy chorus, at long last,
To celebrate and sing
Triumphant Alleluias
For Salvation’s Mercy King.

© 2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Smiling Eyes

Lying in the sunshine of Your love,
Recounting humming bird days,
Flitting as flashes flung to the heavens,
I look to the horizon,
For the rising of yet another sun.

I feel I know You.
It is me I doubt,
But I don’t know why.
I have spent my life
Becoming what I think
You want me to be.
Others, though, have always
Seemed to do it better.

Here I am at eve tide,
Recounting the many waters,
That wash these shores.
Your Beauty plays for me,
Painting the setting sun;
I guess, to reassure my clay
Of The Love You are,
As I still look for me,
Reflected in Your smiling eyes.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Flowers of Love

I will sit here,
Speaking my heart to You.
Look on me as in a garden
Tending these flowers of love.

I water them,
Sometimes with tears,
Sometimes with sweat,
And always with the water
That flows from my Baptism.

Water my garden from above.
Make my flowers grow,
And as I tend them,
Please send your angels to plant seeds
For our eternal tomorrows,
Far off, My Love,
But soon, eternally, Now.

 

 

 

On Creation and Choice

Adam, the one man,
In his being and becoming,
Created, a creature among creatures,
Progenitor of our race,
Chosen and destined to be
For the Son,
By the Son,
In the Son,
Of the Son.

Grace, all grace,
Count it all grace.
The work of Salvation,
Raising the dust of the earth,
To the stuff of heaven and eternity.

One Word,
Outside of Time,
Spoken and containing all,
One Thought,
Outside of Space,
Formed in the Heart of God,
Without matter,
Brought forth matter,
Flung by limitless power,
To obey a law of Love.

With the simplicity of nothing,
He wrote the stuff of galaxies and dimension,
And in time, entered Time, Himself,
To lead us to our end,
Our rest.

Adam, in his being and becoming,
Broke the rule of Love,
Served self,
That had not created itself,
Nor could sustain itself,
But chose to choose itself.

Ultimate folly,
Calling forth endless Mercy.
Adam, progenitor of a race,
A race,
Born to the folly of its father,
Snatched from the choice of death.

Adam and his seed,
Given again a choice,
The Law broken;
“Choose life that you may live”,
A grace of Spirit to recognize the Son,

Adam, the one man,
Containing in his loins a race,
Given, one by one,
Each a mystery of Grace,
Each in his time,
In the expansion of space,
Free to choose.

Gift of the Son,
Redemption conquering Death,
A choice for each one,
Folly forever wrapped in the self,
Or Life to be lived,
In the Creator Father,
In the Savior Son,
In the Spirit One.

True Freedom, Redemption.
Free choice to choose to be redeemed,
For the Son,
By the Son,
In the Son,
By the Death,
Of the Son.

Copyright 2016 Joann Nelander

Brink of Eternity

Good morning, Jesus.
Here we are again,
At the beginning of a new day.

Can you feel me?
Here I am in Your Great Heart,
Reaching for You with my heart.

I feel Your eyes upon me.
You are perfume to my senses.
You are the touch of sweetness
I taste wafting on the breeze of Spirit.

You sound in my heart
With the beating of Yours.
Ever near, ever dear, everlasting,
Song of my soul.

Good morning, my Jesus.
Hold me here,
On the brink of eternity.

©2014 Joann Nelander

Smiling Eyes

Lying in the sunshine of Your love,
Recounting humming bird days,
Flitting as flashes flung to the heavens,
I look to the horizon,
For the rising of yet another sun.

I feel I know You.
It is me I doubt,
But I don’t know why.
I have spent my life
Becoming what I think
You want me to be.
Others, though, have always
Seemed to do it better.

Here I am at eve tide,
Recounting the many waters,
That wash these shores.
Your Beauty plays for me,
Painting the setting sun;
I guess, to reassure my clay
Of The Love You are,
As I still look for me,
Reflected in Your smiling eyes.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander