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Desire of the Everlasting Hills

by Everlasting Hills

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

 

 

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Love Sweeter Than

Your love is sweeter than the honey dripping upon the lover’s tongue,
Sweeter than wine that wakens the palate to new delight.
Your love is aroma and taste penetrating the heart.
It is the roof growing higher,
And foundation of my world,
Glimpsing heaven and begging it near.

Your love is sweeter than my life.
It is invitation and enticement,
Known and unknowing,
Higher than happiness,
Straining to the Holy.

Your Love is the beginning and end of Life.
Falling on the world,
Drop by drop,
Yet, like a river in flood,
Endless and eternal,
The crossing of Now and Forever
Meeting in my bossom,
Drawing me free from myself,
Into You.

In Your thirst
You are all poverty,
Hungry,
And yet all supplying,
Giving and spent,
Still full in Your Emptiness.

Your Love is sweeter than this life,
Holy with promise,
You ring my heart with longing
And satisfy my depths and queries.
With Truth, You show me the heaven of Your Heart,
And bid me “Come.”

© 2016 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.

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.

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