Did You Dance?

Did you laugh?
Did you dance?
You were there
I remember.

The invitation,
Sent from my heart,
Was as personal
As a dream.

Hopes,
Whispered and shared,
Then tucked away
With our days,

The stuff of weavers,
Spinning bright threads
Running their course
Replete with expectations
Not to be denied.

Full of welcome,
An invitation to dance,
With the bride
Loving her groom
In the Mystery of You,

Did you dance,
Did you laugh,
When our love
Blossomed and bloomed,
Bearing children
To delight our hearts,
Gladdening our garden
With sweet enchantment.

Today I pick flowers,
Memories like posies,
In colored bouquets.
Today our hearts are full.
Today we celebrate,
And spread our blanket
On grassy meadows.

Resting and remembering
All happiness,
And passing sorrow,
Shared and savored,
As water turned wine.

Come and laugh.
Come and dance.
Years like water,
Running a course.
Years full and fleeting,
Waltzing and jigging
Spent in embrace.

Our dance goes on,
On to trip through the night,
Marathon run,
Accompanied with music
Floating on Life’s breezes.
Two become one,
Dancing in You.

By Joann Salerno Nelander, Bride

One Last Prayer

If I should die today,
What have I to say?
Perhaps just one last prayer.

Grant that my heart
Should leap and quicken,
Catching sight of You
Coming from afar.

With Your Father,
You have wooed, and waited,
Sent Your Spirit
Into my dry bones,
Raising me from dust
Once again
And, now, forevermore.

Here I am, my Hallowed three.
The Bridegoom cometh;
Come for me.

(c) 2012 Joann Nelander

School of Faith

My dear little Saint,
What a beautiful hedge
He placed around you,
Mother and Father,
Sisters and Faith,
Love to grow you,
And hardship
To steel you.

Holiness drew you
As family ties
Formed you for God,
And set you free
To take flight
In the air of Carmel.

Little Saint be to me
Mother, Father, Sister
And my school of Faith.
With you like Solomon,
I learn to sing,
"Draw me; we will run
after Thee
To the odor
Of Thy ointments."

The Lord’s Joy

The Lord’s joy
Is my strength.
He persuades my heart
By gentleness.
His mercy is a fountain
Of inner mirth,
Springing up in all seasons,
To temper my sorrow,
To pour oil into my wounds,
To salt my friendships
And to delight the Father,
Who sees me
Running after His Son,
And dancing with David’s abandonment.

May I be the dimple
In Your smile,
Appealing as the uplifted arms
Of a child,
And the innocent sleep
Of a baby.

Gladness be my swaddling,
That You may
Impart to me
The power the weak
Have to touch
The Heart of God,
Accepting always
His Loving will.

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012

P.S.

A Man Clothed in Sin

A man clothed in sin
Walked the long aisle
To stand before the Crucifix.

Long years,
No tears,
He came to say,
“You died for me,
And I don’t give a damn!”

The hardened before the Hallowed,
The clock running down,
Time spent and unreflected,
Deeds done and unrepentant.

Challenged to say the words,
He began,
“You died for me,
And I don’t give…”

Undaunted, he repeated,
“You died for me
And I don’t…..”
Gaze focused
On that bloodied Corpse,
Resolute, again, he began.
“You died for me…”
…….
“You died for me…”
“You died for me!”

Tears, tears,
Rivers of tears,
Years unspent,
And now in flood.

Miracles at the Red Sea,
Yet, none greater
Than the Passover,
One innocent Lamb,
Slain, and yet standing,
Lifted up,
Drawing thee.

© 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Inspired by another story :

MONDAY, 6 AUGUST 2007

Cardinal Lustiger RIP 1926-2007


I didn’t always agree with the former Archbishop of Paris, Cardinal Jean-Marie Lustiger, who died yesterday, but his tenure of that see brought a great deal more good than harm, I think. On his watch, the Catholic life of the city gained a huge boost; the new movements revitalized many parishes, and vocations to the priesthood soared. I remember that he habitually celebrated Mass in Notre Dame almost every Sunday evening for the young people who came to that Mass; a great example to the other bishops of France, many of whom are facing the priestly extinction of their dioceses.
I heard a story attributed to him—maybe it is one he told rather than a story about himself (since he himself was a Jewish convert). I was given to understand that the story is a true one.
Two boys were, out of mischief, determined to tease their parish priest, so they went to confession and made up outrageous sins, just to see what the priest would say. The priest, listening to the second boy, realizing that he was being ‘had’, and hurt by the mockery of the sacrament, asked the second lad as a ‘penance’ to go to the crucifix over the tabernacle and shout out loud, three times ‘you died for me, and I don’t give a damn’. The lad did as he was asked; by the third time he was in tears. Some years later, he was ordained a priest.
May Jean-Marie Lustiger rest in peace.

The Visit

In flight
Into Egypt
Hungry,
Hurried,
Yet at peace.

You pass my way.
Because you are holy
We are worlds apart.
Yet you touch me
By your plight.

You must eat.
You must drink.
Rest a moment
Under my tent.

Holy visitors,
Let me wash your feet.
Your smiles
Enter my heart
As a symphony

Stay the night.
Bring the star
From heaven
To light my adobe.

Dwell forever
Here in Spirit
Though you must hurry
On your way.

Journey on,O, Protector,
O Mother, O Child.
With me,
In your hearts,
Now, I wait
For you forever.

I tucked a little rattle
Under His blanket.
Perhaps, He’ll hear me
In the sounds,
A remembrance,
Like a prayer,
In the rattling of beads.

By Joann Nelander