Tag Archives: Christ

Accountable

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O Man, awaken!
On Earth, you are held accountable,
Are you not?

You sing for your supper.
You dance to life’s tune.
Only the air is free.
All else is taxed.
The first fruit is owed another.

You fear to run from the law.
You are held to a measure.!
If it be such for a man of earth,
Mortal, yet accountable,
Where will a soul, immortal,
Flee upon a coming demise?

Without the stuff of Earth,
Naked and stripped of pomp and circumstance,
Revealed as soul and spirit,
Answering not to man,
But to God,
Are we not all the more accountable?

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

You Looked Down

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You looked down
From Your Cross
To behold faithfulness.
There stood Your Mother.

You beheld her look of grief,
Her suffering Your pain.
You wed it
To Your Own,
Presenting all
Before Our Father’s holy throne.

© 2013 Joann Nelander

Host upon the Altar

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Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.

Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.

I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.

A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.

He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.

Spiritual Communion

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Come, my Lord, to this poor dwelling,
You are Lord of all, and heaven is at hand as You approach.
Come in Spirit to my humble abode.
At your coming, the angels make ready.
They spread their wings over Your Mercy Seat.

Come be enthroned here in my heart.
Allow the splendor of heaven
To scatter flowers along Your Way,
As You incline Your Heart
To one in misery for want of You.

I rejoice for You are here,
And in my embrace.
You are Now.
You are mine,
O my Beloved.

Heaven finds a home in my soul,
As You reign in my heart.
A river of Life pours forth,
As You water this garden,
And provide rich food and fruit,
For all who will partake.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Song of Salvation

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Sing Lord,
To make of me a song,
Rising on the wind,
Spreading through the land.

By the movement of Your tune,
I proclaim Your Love.
By the rushing of Your Spirit,
Borne anew on hallowed wings,
I announce the Year of Favor.

O sweet divine encounter
With the Risen Lord
Make my melody
As pure as the heart of Jesus

Proclaim.
Reclaim. Reclaim.
Reclaim Your own.
Seat sons and daughters
Of Your Love
Upon Your Heart,
On Mercy throne.

© 2013  Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Host upon the Altar

by

Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.

Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.

I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.

A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.

He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.