A king,
A victim,
A priest,A king accused,
A victim scourged,
A priest condemned,A king crowned and robed,
A victim beaten and humiliated,
A priest on the altar of the Cross,O Anointed One,
O Crucified One,
O Holy One,
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done.
Eternal Priesthood won.by Joann Nelander
Category Archives: Poetry
No Empty Dream
Lamenting, I quit my case.
Sorrowing, my complaints lie with me
In dust and ashes.
The plaintiff has become defendant.I rest the case I brought against You.
What have I proven?
That I never knew You?
That I never sought You?Counterfeits sufficed to fill my belly.
There was always another dream on the horizon.
Tomorrows pretended to satisfy my emptiness.
The chase was the gambit that became the game.Before You showed me mercy,
You showed me Me
Not the Me of mirrors, but the Me of my heart,
That shrunken pigmy of diminishing proportion.Among Men, there is no forgiveness like Yours.
If judged by Men, I would be meted punishment
By the self-righteously righteous,
While the unrighteous, would applaud my vice and welcome me at the hearth,
No forgiveness necessary, where sin is no sin.As gift, the clarity of Day, dawned suddenly,
You appeared with Light as Your garment,
In Your Light I was all Darkness,
Pretense dissipated as Your Sun rose.The world appeared not as a prize but as a wonder.
Nature didn’t dictate; it served.
The heart of mothers where turned back to their children.
And You reigned as King.I would have fainted away,
Had not the Good Thief stood by Your side.
He smiled my way,
Eyes twinkling at the memory of his meeting You upon Your Cross.
Assurances asked, assurances given.
Simple eternal words.Coming full circle, I rest upon Your arm,
You lift up my head and incline to comfort me.
Mercy smiles on my repentant heart,
And plans for me a future full of hope.You Who laid the foundation of the Earth,
Plot a course for me through the Wilderness of the world.
My pilgrimage from sin to saint
Leads through Two Hearts bound by a Mystery uniting Heaven and Earth.Birthed anew in Baptism,
Restored again in Reconciliation,
Your grace acts on me, Your grace acts in me.
All grace that waited upon my willing.My will is now that of a child.
I follow at Your side, learning Your ways.
Your Words are my food and my fullness.
Heaven is no longer an empty dream, but a Promise.
From You lips on the Cross, piercing my heart.“Father forgive them.
They know not what they do.”Copyright Joann Nelander © 2011 All rights reserved.
Gathering Flowers
As a child,
Gathering flowers in a meadow,
I spend these hours
By your side, dear Mother.
Happily, you kiss each bloom,
I offer, playfully, to our lips.
Bunching them as a bouquet,
I press them into your hands,
And you, as mother’s do,
Press them to your heart.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Easter Morn
EASTER MORN
Holy Mother Mary,
I invite Your presence in my life.
As you look on my days,
Listen to my prayers,
Watch my growth through the years,
Touch me with the graces
Of.your Motherly prerogative,
You who walked the way of the Cross
With your Holy Son,
From the instant of His Incarnation
In your sacred womb,
Be beside me
In my every moment.
Meet me in my joys and sorrows
And impart your maternal blessing.
May my soul grow holy,
As you rush to lift me,
When I fall,
Just as you interceded
For Jesus in His Passion.
He fell under the weight of my sins,
And you cried out to heaven.
Hear now my heart
Beseeching thee.
Standing by His Cross,
See me in His Suffering
And receive me as your own.
Take the moments,
And all the years,
Of my existence,
In your arms,
As you did the Body of your Son,
When He was lowered from His Cross.
He wrought my Salvation
In that fearsome Hour.
Wrap my years in His shroud
And when I wake,
Rejoice in this,
My Easter morn.
I Was Irish Once
I was Irish once:
I was Irish for brief moments,
As they danced on makeshift stage.
Three sisters donned in green and white,
With ribbons in curled hair.
I was Irish for brief moments,
As locks bounced to rhythms tapped,
By jigging, flying feet,
Flitting blithely through the air.
I was Irish for brief moments,
Of merriment sublime,
Happy, joyful leaping,
Knees high, and lifted, kicking.
I was Irish for brief moments
Minstrels played their magic tunes,
And young girls moved in rocking fashion
Erin’s reveries impassioned.
I was Irish for brief moments.
Sweetly skirted colleens,
Poised on pointed toes.
Sent hearts a-skipping, happy legs a-lifting,
I was Irish for brief moments,
As fairies with green ribbons
In coiffed and flaming hair,
Spun a golden space in memory’s place.
I was Irish for brief moments,
And see again in dreaming,
Gladsome spinning, hopping, prancing,
Three sisters on stage dancing.
Yes, I was Irish once.
©2013 Joann Nelander
all rights reserved
Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival
It’s time once again for Sunday Snippets. We are Catholic bloggers sharing weekly our best posts with one another. Join us to read and/or contribute. To participate, go to your blog and create a post titled Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival. Make sure that the post links back to here, and leave a link to your snippets post on our host, RAnn’s, site, This, That and the Other Thing.
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