Prime Directive – Life

Before Time,
You chose me to be.
You chose my time.
You chose my place.
You chose my people.
You chose my fore-bearers.
You chose my parents.
You chose my soul
And the gifts,
That make me, uniquely, me.

You made me free,
Yet, tied in space
To time and place,
To a People,
To mother and father,
To one womb,
You bid me grow.

You said seek Me.
You gave me eyes to see.
You gave me ears to hear.
You gave me hands to hold.
You gave me mind,
And will,
And intellect.

You said ask Me.
You said lean on me.
You said choose life.
For freedom, love and life,
Free to choose,
I choose You.

Copyright 2013 Joann Nelander

Prime Directive – Life

Before Time,
You chose me to be.
You chose my time.
You chose my place.
You chose my people.
You chose my fore-bearers.
You chose my parents.
You chose my soul
And the gifts,
That make me, uniquely, me.

You made me free,
Yet, tied in space
To time and place,
To a People,
To mother and father,
To one womb,
You bid me grow.

You said seek Me.
You gave me eyes to see.
You gave me ears to hear.
You gave me hands to hold.
You gave me mind,
And will,
And intellect.

You said ask Me.
You said lean on me.
You said choose life.
For freedom, love and life,
Free to choose,
I choose You.

Copyright Joann Nelander

Take My Hand

Take my hand , my Jesus.
Here I am, Your child,
Too small to stand on my own,
Yet welcome before Your throne.

It is, You, My Cause,
Who sets me upright,
Through and through,
To be like unto You.

All my life called,
And marked by Love Divine,
Under Your Shadow, sun shining above,
One command only, Love!

Who can love without You?
This, too, You supply.
You spend Your Life’s Blood
To draw me from mire and mud.

All from Adam
In human chain,
Hold hands to be set free,
Man from Sin in loving Thee.

Copyright 2013 Joann Nelander

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

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.