Love’s Return

Moved by Love, my Love,
How do I make return?
Struggles press, take hold of.
Moved by Love, my Love,
Power proffered from above
Too requisite to spurn.
Moved by Love, my Love,
How do I make return?

Copyright Joann Nelander

(experimental triolet)

Loving You

Loving You

I am with you,
As One Who has always loved you,
Loving you as you began your life’s journey
To the kingdom of Heaven,
Your true home,
Loving you all the days I have appointed you.
Loving you unto dying and your death,
Loving you as the breath of life.

I have played upon the strings of your heart,
So that you would hear My music,
Even midst dissimilitude and dissonance.
Let not the unbelieving of the world,
Let not discordance and strife of flesh,
Let not the deceiver of Men,
Draw a curtain before your eyes.

Fix the gaze of your soul upon Me,
Here in your heart,
I reign, holy and at rest,
Upon the throne
At the center of your being.

Do Me homage
As you arise at the break of day.
Bow before Me
With the rising of each sun.
Dance with Me,
Following My lead.
Cry with Me in the sorrowing.
Plead for sinners in their fall.

Lend the hand of prayer
To uphold the weak and weary.
You journey as one
In the One Who is All Love.

Peace, My child.
Peace and refreshment,
Here at my altar.
I polish and perfect you,
That you may be
A monstrance of humility,
Fading from prominence,
As I send out my splendor
As grace and blessing.

All is gift to the one
Who receives with the seasons,
Yielding to the winds that blow upon the soul,
Welcoming the water of spring rains,
And the summer torrents,
Allowing blankets of snow
To still you in repose,
Awaiting new life, My Life.

© 2015 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.

Loving You

Loving You

I am with you,
As One Who has always loved you,
Loving you as you began your life’s journey
To the kingdom of Heaven,
Your true home,
Loving you all the days I have appointed you.
Loving you unto dying and your death,
Loving you as the breath of life.

I have played upon the strings of your heart,
So that you would hear My music,
Even midst dissimilitude and dissonance.
Let not the unbelieving of the world,
Let not discordance and strife of flesh,
Let not the deceiver of Men,
Draw a curtain before your eyes.

Fix the gaze of your soul upon Me,
Here in your heart,
I reign, holy and at rest,
Upon the throne
At the center of your being.

Do Me homage
As you arise at the break of day.
Bow before Me
With the rising of each sun.
Dance with Me,
Following My lead.
Cry with Me in the sorrowing.
Plead for sinners in their fall.

Lend the hand of prayer
To uphold the weak and weary.
You journey as one
In the One Who is All Love.

Peace, My child.
Peace and refreshment,
Here at my altar.
I polish and perfect you,
That you may be
A monstrance of humility,
Fading from prominence,
As I send out my splendor
As grace and blessing.

All is gift to the one
Who receives with the seasons,
Yielding to the winds that blow upon the soul,
Welcoming the water of spring rains,
And the summer torrents,
Allowing blankets of snow
To still you in repose,
Awaiting new life, My Life.

© 2015 Joann Nelander

Wrath of God, a Living Hell

The Wrath of God blazes forth
As left to myself,
I behold myself.
Where is His image in me?
What have I done ?

Where God is not,
Only Hell resides.
Life has become my agony,
With self-inflicted wounds.

Unchanging Purity of Being,
Fire of Love,
I, now, the antithesis,
Banishing God to the periphery
Holding Him at bay.
My kingdom, my way!

Sin rages in His absence,
A counterfeit of life,
For where the Creator is not,
There is only dissipation.
Creating nothing;
Loving no one,

I built a world apart,
Overruled His Plan,
Overturned His “Shalt Nots”
With tolerance and choice.
There is no compromise for Truth.
Sin is always a choice,
Or it is not sin.

The Wrath of God blazes forth.
Consumes the idol, self.
Now, to turn, to choose anew,
To turn again before the final hour,
While it is still Day,
No more to turn away!

So splendid a freedom is love
That it can not come to be
Without an altar,
And in the Fire of Love,
To sacrifice my “Me”.

©2014 Joann Nelander

 

 

.

Brink of Eternity

Good morning, Jesus.
Here we are again,
At the beginning of a new day.

Can you feel me?
Here I am in Your Great Heart,
Reaching for You with my heart.

I feel Your eyes upon me.
You are perfume to my senses.
You are the touch of sweetness
I taste wafting on the breeze of Spirit.

You sound in my heart
With the beating of Yours.
Ever near, ever dear, everlasting,
Song of my soul.

Good morning, my Jesus.
Hold me here,
On the brink of eternity.

©2014 Joann Nelander