God on the Horizon

Lord, I rejoice to hear Your Voice
Echoing in my soul.
Through Your Word,
I have come to recognize that Voice
Even amidst the chaos of the world.

“Come to Me”
“Do not be afraid”
“Stand firm”
“Your God is in your midst. ”

Heaven sings “My Lord” on the horizon.
Spanning the day with Your herald,
Coming forth with the
dawn,
His notes color the firmament
In a symphony of splendor.
Playing with hues
As with a pipe organ,
He pulls out the stops in promise,
Until he captures the morn and subdued it.

Making it His own
In the mystery of You, O Lord.
He whispers to listening hearts,
“You are the Light of the world”

With eventide He strides
As Day’s work done.
Then God calls home the Sun.
But not without a closing hoorah.
As over hill and dale,
He paints for fun,
And angelic artists
Shout His blazing Glory.

All is put to bed
‘Neathe a cloak of many colors,
Finally, dimming their voices
In lullabys of peace
To sleep in childlike slumber,
Save for He, Who slumbers not.

God on the horizon,
Sun to sun,
Labor swallowed up in trust,
To await His Coming
In both darkness and the dawn,
All my life long.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

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

Listening and Silent

It seems…
I am always talking to You,
That I am always with You,
And have no doubt
You are with me,
Listening and silent.

I am an endless monologue.
You, hovering Spirit,
Wordlessly eloquent
Abide.
You are Presence and Truth,
Listening and silent,
Thunderously silent,
Save for the stirring of my heart,
And the sometime rush of thought,
Coming, as it were,
From the bowels of my being
With frightening conviction,
And challenging my reticence
To speak aloud
The thoughts of solitude.

Reluctant always
To go about,
And leave the cloister of my heart,
Where in Your chambers I find,
And hold dear,
Private audience with the King,

The world without is a noisy charade,
And woos the pride of me take center stage.
Where suddenly I realize
I have been talking much, too much,
To my regret.

I, naggingly, suspect
I have diminished
What was my treasure
And ceased to learn.
Cacophany of me,
I cease to learn,
And simply rearrange,
That with which I am familiar.

Where do prophet, poet and a would be recluse
Find voice if not in You,
Rejecting even audience
To find You in my silence,
Your silence.

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Ring Out, Wild Bells – Happy New Year !

Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson, by George...

Ring Out, Wild Bells by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Be Ready for the Infant King

Who will come to the stable
On Christmas Day?
And what will they take away?

Wise men, steadfast and earnest, came,
Instead of palace music,
They heard the donkey brae.
A lowly sound and sight,
Yet their wonder unallayed.

Many come rejoicing,
To behold the Newborn King,
Bowing low,
While angels sing.

Christ’s comes for all
But not all come.
Some come, behold, then fall away,
Being rootless, they merrily go their way.

Father God prepared a voice
To announce His Only Word,
A messenger, born before, to go before.
Another child, spared Ramah’s plight
To live and pierce Sin’s long night
John, O, John, still cries, “Repent!”

Prepare if you would follow.
At Jerusalem’s Gate,
Many cried, “Messiah,”
Who would soon cry, “Crucify.”

Whose will will you do,
When the music fades in life?
Pride prides itself on ‘my way,’
Confounds with will and strife.

Without a ready, willing heart,
Nothing changes Christmas Day.
Corrupt hearts go on corrupting,
All the while the kingly Infant cries,
As throughout His life,
“I am the Way.”

Whose heart will live in yours
As angelic songs fade away.
Will you simply leave the stable
To follow your own way?

Come, O come, rejoicing!
Praying for a change.
Receive the Babe within your Heart.
The humble He teaches His Way.

 

©2011 Joann Nelander

 

Counting Stars

I counted stars today.
As prophets and dreamers,
Glimpsing God through the darkness,
My wonder soared.
I, too, beheld
The promise of eternity,
Stretched across the eons.

Mere points of light
In a midnight sky,
Announcing Truth veiled in mystery,
Of things hidden and unseen,
Of ages long past and yet to be.
Who with me
Knows that there is more?
Much more!

Lanterns hung in the heavens
Make of me their lampstand,
That Eternal Light
Might shine more brightly,
Giving voice to creation.

No dumb marvel,
Rather angelic themes,
To sing high praises
In celestial chants,
For all who turn their gaze
Heavenward, counting,
And loosing count,
Journey home.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander