The Robe

Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.

Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.

Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.

Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.

© 2015 Joann Nelander

The Church Militant

The Church Militant

“Behold the Lamb of God,
Behold Him Who takes away
The sins of the world.”

A priest holds aloft,
The consecrated Host.
“Behold…”

One by one.
Standing in adoration,
Each receives.

They pass before me.
I hear, “Behold, My army,
Each, a living monstrance.”

©2016 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

Father Forever

“Father forgive them they know not what they do.”

Cords of sorrow draw me.
I am witness to the plight,
Man become beast,
Without wisdom or wit,
Licking his own blood,
Hungry, harrowed,
Stunned in horror.

The knots of revenge entangle,
Cry for evermore blood,
Ever more abasement,
Ever more widows,
Ever more orphans,
Ever more refuse and waste.

A crying child becomes hundreds,
Then thousands,
Then millions,
Left to wander,
Left to dissipate and hate.

Vengeance is sweeter than food,
To one who chooses to live
Without Love,
Without Light,
Without the Holy and the True,
For such is the abode of Sin,
And many the roads
Leading to its gate.

Bestial brutality,
Raging insanity,
Now reigns the malignant.
The disconsolate refuse all solace,
Wounds of the heart,
Wounds of the mind,
Wounds of the body of Man.

Look to the high mountain,
Eyes to the heavens,
Wake the long dead,
Who await the promised Banquet,
Those, who now know,
They are one Family of Man,
Divested of tribal allegiance,
Awaiting the One,
And coming, King.

Offer a sacrifice of prayer.
Pour forth the balm of Gilead.
Speak, in the tongue of angels,
The comfort of peoples,
Hope in the Darkness.

Humanity’s ties are stronger than its sins,
More numerous than the cords
That draw it down in the Dark Night.
For its One God
Is Father Forever.

You are the Music

Jesus, write the symphony of my life.
In Your Mystery of becoming,
Blend every note,
And sing the harmony
That embraces the sinner
To create the saint.

You are here
With the Father and Holy Spirit,
Supping and residing,
I receive You in Holy Communion,
Grant that I might never neglect You,
My Holy Guests.

I place You on the music stand of my life.
You are the Score,
And Conductor.

All I receive, I give
On the wind of the Spirit,
To be rightly arranged.
You be the music playing in my soul.

In chorus, Seraphim and Saints intercede,
And I and all creation dance with Miriam
As Jesus mediates the Victory
In His Song of Salvation.

© 2015 Joann Nelander

Writing in Gold

Writing in Gold

I’m here,
Once again,
I’m here.
Awake to You.

Before dawn wakes,
I anticipate,
Opening the door of my heart,
Like a flower,
Invited by the light
Of a thousand yesterday’s.

We have a history,
And though my memory fades,
You cherish our moments.
Even the mundane,
You write in letters of Gold,
Recording them,
Transforming them.

I’m here, again,
Awake to You,
You, Who have been watching,
Guarding,
Writing,
In Gold,
Gold,
Precious Gold.

In the Gold of Ophir,
You write.
You tell,
My story,
My life,
In refined Gold,
You inscribe,
In Your Book of Life.
My heart,
On Your Most Sacred Heart.

© 2017 Joann Nelander