Feed My Lambs

I am no one,
But see the army
Of saints and angels
Who implore Thee.

You say “Feed my lambs,
Feed my sheep,”
And I am tempted
To think, I have nothing,
But, Lord, are You
Not the Whole Loaf,
And are You not
Eternal and ours?

I will give
From my Ever Present Lord.
In my poverty,
You are my abundance.

What I can not see,
I know is on the way.
You are not far off.
You have come,
And You are coming soon.
Emmanuel.

© 2011  Joann Nelander

Blossom in the Desert

Sad the plight of Man,
Mourning the lose of Paradise.
Captive to cowardice,
Hiding from his God.
Cast out, betraying,
And accusing one another,
Empty of grace, forlorn.
One garden of hope remains.
One paradise,
Ready for the Spring.
One immaculate heaven on earth.
O Virgin, say but the Word,
And your “Fiat”
Will blossom forth in Faith,
Rarity of your virginal ground.
Immaculate fecundity,
Queen Mother, Desert Willow,
New Eve, bearer of New Adam,
With new creation, rejoicing.
Voicing all thanksgiving,
A Eucharist for the sons and daughters of God.

 

© 2011 Joann Nelander

Set the World Aright

The world, in turmoil, convulses.
Peoples flee.
Those who know You,
Run to You.
Those, who are rushing
To the pit in despair,
Flee from You,
As from Leviathan.

Show forth Your Truth and Beauty.
Stop sinners in their flight.
Smile, as the Sun from heaven,
That all men may truly see,
And all men know You, O Truth.

You are a scourge
To the proud,
But to the man,
Who clearly sees himself,
For what he is, and faints.
Then, coming to his senses,
Lies prostrate in repentance;
To that man You are Hope
And help, and healing.

Your Mercy covers a multitude of sin.
Your blood, sprinkled on us,
Cries out “Sanctuary!”
O Altar, O Victim, O Priest.

Christ Jesus,
You know my heart,
And yet embrace it.
Your priestly garment
Covers my nakedness.
Your Kingly Mantle identifies me,
As Child of the Great King.
My name is written on Your Thigh.
Like a mother,
You brought me forth at Your Knees,
To claim me eternally.

The waters well up,
I am washed,
And carried in the current,
To ride the waves of Your Mercy
And come to rest on Your shore
For all eternity.

Celebrate the Mass
Of our Redemption,
Once for all,
And for all time.
The thunder is silent.
The quaking ceases.
The clouds of darkness part.
The Sun of Justice rises,
And the course of the world
Obeys the Will of Your Father.

O Christ, O Holy One,
Guide the course
Of this wayward planet.
Set the earth aright,
And welcome its people
Into Your Heart.

© 2011 Joann Nelander

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Host upon the Altar

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.

Feed My Lambs

I am no one,
But see the army
Of saints and angels
Who implore Thee.

You say “Feed my lambs,
Feed my sheep,”
And I am tempted
To think, I have nothing,
But, Lord, are You
Not the Whole Loaf,
And are You not
Eternal and ours?

I will give
From my Ever Present Lord.
In my poverty,
You are my abundance.

What I can not see,
I know is on the way.
You are not far off.
You have come,
And You are coming soon.
Emmanuel.

© 2011  Joann Nelander

A Thousand Little Moments

I fail and I fall.
“Yes, Father, it’s me, again.”
My prayers and tears reach Your heart with plaintiff sighs.

I reach for Love, as a baby grasps the finger,
Securing You to my heart,
Binding You by trifles.
A thousand little moments, like a knitter’s weave,
Trivial triumphs conquering like souls,
For made in Your image, I desire only You.

Of wooing, my begging be a part.
I turn, my God, to You, as a prayer with every care.
Prayer and tears, now, all one,
I nestle to Your breast and am all ear.

I listen as beat upon beat,
Love’s rhythm reassures me of the next,
And, of Your eternal constancy.
I listen, as for a whisper, and fear not
Whisper every care, and fretful prayer.

I reach for You with every breath,
And sigh when You draw nigh.
You answer with a mother’s warmth,
Bending low, picking me up, and pressing me
To Your consoling bosom.

“What is it my child. Am I not here? Haven’t I given you all?”
You kiss away my tears
And delight in the exchange.
I have given nothing but complaint,
Yet, You are full of smiles.

A thousand little moments knit our day.
I cry and You comfort.
I beckon and You bend in kind regard.
You draw me into that chamber,
In which I was formed,
That hallowed space,
In which my time began.

Heaven and rest contained
In one all holy Name.
Name me, my God,
And I will come into being,
Called forth from my darkness
Into Your marvelous Day.

All our moments measured by Your mercy,
I cry out for a heart made unto Your own,
That I may grow to give Your Love.
Love begetting love, for love alone.