Jesus, enter the waters of our lives.
As at the Jordan,
You made holy
The water of Baptism,
Renew, in all men of good will,
Life, that flows from the God of Heaven,
Your Father, our Father, my Father.
May Your Holiness
Infuse the elements,
That compose all created things.
By the Water,
Cascading from the Temple,
Your pierced, open, and hallowed Side,
Prepare here a place for all men to abide.
Amen
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Mortal life of substance,
And ethereal,
As the matter of soul,
You are far spent,
In this night of human life,
That passes in a blink
Of the eye of God.
I have pulled you,
Limb from limb,
Not as the Savior’s travail
Upon the Cross,
But by sinning,
Brought death to my members.
I am dislocated,
In body and Time,
Knowing neither peace,
Nor the plenty
Of sweet communion,
The passages of Death
And the Lies,
Rising from the Pit,
And told to Man,
Threaten the life
Of God in me,
You, O mind and body,
Have been taken prisoner,
By the gods
I chose to serve.
Mercy speaks
Light to my darkness
And Grace
To my repentant will,
Love never ceases
Watching and waiting.
Mercy, I call to You,
You, Who call me forth,
And deliver me.
I turn my thoughts and pray
To the Fount of my being.
As a babe,
I return,
And from New Womb,
By faith believing,
I choose rebirth,
And am reborn.
My grave is a baptism
That reconnects my spirit
To my God..
Breath, bones and sinews
Sing a new song
Born of my Savior’s Grave.
Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander
Joann Nelander
lionessblog.com
O Man,awake!
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
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
A thousand thousand trumpets mark Your path.
The lips of angels tremble and anticipate
As hour fast approaches,
For Gabriel’s stormy blast
Ushering the Age’s end,
When on the clouds You will descend,
To come again as way You went .
Sun of Justice with Spirit Sword,
Your Word, to cut
Between the marrow and the bone,
All that stands the test of Fire,
You gather home.
Refuse and stubble
Immolated in furnace heat,
As passing in Your hallowedness
You devour all that is not meet.
The trumpets’ blare gives way
To music of celestial harps,
And Miriam song sounded strong.
As the martyrs chime,
Finally coming forth from beneath the Altar,
To sing their tune and time.
Holy chorus, at long last,
To celebrate and sing
Triumphant Alleluias
For Salvation’s Mercy King.
© 2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
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
