Category Archives: Poetry, Prose & Prayer

Poetry, Prose & Prayer

King of All Nations

by

Cover your eyes,
Lest you look on evil.
Stop your ears
Lest the fowl word assail.

The unthinkable
Has come to pass.
The forbidden
Have come to be.

The very air carries
The Tempter’s brood,
Sinister, in cloaked deceit.
Evil snakes in high places,
Surreptitious, in plans and plotting.

Look, and you will not see
The Perpetrator.
Sound the alarm,
But to meet mock outrage,
And the blind eye.

The pot once simmering
Has come to a boil,
No lid to contain,
No effort to constrain.

Prepare ye!
Prepare Ye!
With prayer,
And fasting,
Prepare ye!

From the Four Corners
Trumpet blasts,
Herald of battle,
A call to arms.

Arrows, tipped with prayer,
Fly heavenward,
Rising to hail the Almighty,
To bid bright Michael
To storm.

Let them descend as rain
To pierce the heart of Darkness
To rout the Foe
On the Terrible Day,
The Day of the Lord.

Mercy opens His Breast,
Revealing a Heart of Love.
Justice clothes the anawim
In plated armor.

Light from light
Fills the Earth
As Pentecost,
And Genesis meet.

A New Heaven
And New Earth to come,
As the King of All Nations
Arises in the East,
Prepared to mount His throne.

Prepare ye!
Prepare Ye!
With prayer,
And fasting,
Prepare ye!

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

An Act of Faith

by

I have seen enough to know,
I just don’t know,
But there is One Who does,
Giver of Life,
Giver of generations,
Giver of prayer.

One generation to pray
For the next generation.
Mother, and father,
Grandmother, grandfather,
A circle of care
To pray it forward.

Faith waits upon the Lord,
A gift beyond measure,
A mystery waiting to happen,
Not in our time,
But in our Father’s.

No seed too bad
To wait upon,
Hope for,
Entrust to God,
In His Mercy,
And providential time.

Our own close their ears
To the prophet at home
Or next door,
But no one knows
What God has in store.

"Place them here
With Me in the tabernacle,"
Whispers God to the heart.
"I’ll have the last word,
My Love to impart."

One generation to pray
For the next generation.
"All shall be well,
And all shall be well,
And all manner of thing
Shall be well."     (Bl.Julianna of Norwich)

©2012 Joann Nelander

I Am the Gift

by

1

 

I am the gift
God gives to me,
Mysterious and known,
But to God.
Unfolding like the petals of a rose,
From tightly wound bud,
To glorious blossom,
Unfurled and unfettered,
I move with the wind
And dance with the sun,
Following its course

Across the sky.
I am God’s gracious gift.
He, the grace giver.
May I serve to delight Him,
By the fragrance of my being,
Offering no resistance,
As I incline
To the gentle breeze,
Or bow in storm’s fury.
The gift God gives to me,
I kiss and make return,
One smiling bloom
In God’s splendid bouquet of creation.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Awake O Dreamer, Blasphemer

by

Man in his pride knows best.
So says the arrogant spirit
Because God made you
In His image,
You crack the door
Of your sciences,
For less than a peek,
And marvel at your prowess.
In awe, you assume
The accomplishment your own.

No thanks for eyes, ears,,
The touch, the smell,
The faculties of intellect
And will.

Mine, all it mine you say,
And set out in sinful disregard.
No honor to the Name,
Simple blasphemy your frame.

Wake up, O Dreamer
You revel in your ignorance,
While angels wait
To open your swollen,
Lustful eyes,
To your shame
And repentance.

O, Man,
Humbly gaze on Truth,
And purity’s delight.
Say but the word
That your soul may be healed.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Take My Hand

by

Take My hand,
The very same hand
That in infancy
Grasped My Mother’s finger,
Hugged her about the neck.

Look into My Eyes,
The very eyes
That held My Mother’s gaze.

Let me take you
To your child,
Never forgotten,
Buried in secret mourning,
No day without pain.

Your little one has a heart of love,
A soul of patience
A spirit of forbearance,
And one solitary prayer.

Playing on the lap of Our Father,
Whispering the heart’s desire
Into Abba’s listening ear,
Full of Love’s expectation,
Your babe smiles eternally
And waits for thee.

Take My hand,
The very same hand
That in infancy
Grasped My Mother’s finger,
Hugged her about the neck.
Now is a time to embrace
The gift I give you in Love.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Fear of the Lord

by

The merciful Hand of the Lord
Is upon me.
It is a fearful thing
To fall into the Hand
Of the Living God
He metes out judgment,
And punishment due.
Why then, do I lift my voice
In praise and thanksgiving?

In an instant,
I saw my desert.
Fear and trembling seized me,
As my mercy-cry
Pierced the darkness.

Caught in my descent,
His Hand reached
Into my Hell.
It is in my nature to fall,
In His nature
To show mercy.

His end is my good.
Even in judgment,
Mercy shows His Face.
Punished, I am now free.
Seeing His mercy
In His rendering of scourge,
I trust,
As once I feared to do.
May His Hand always
Be upon me,
As fear of the Lord,
Befriends me.

©2012 Joann Nelander  All rights reserved