Empty the tomb,
The wrappings set aside.
No Body to be found,
Faith in triumph shouts.
It is Easter dawn.
Joy spills or’ heaven’s ledge
As sun rises to high heaven.
Hope blankets earth’s face.
Love penetrates its depth.
A people, newborn,
Called forth to be light.
Witnesses stand forth,
Wrapped about in wedding garb,
They go forth to meet the Groom.
Sonrise in High Heaven!
© 2014 Joann Nelander
Seek grace before bliss.
To seek bliss,
Is to seek the gift
May be to shun the Giver.
Who conjures dreams matters.
My pleasure may spring
From forbidden springs.
Before I entrust
Myself to gods,
Should I not seek
To discern “truths”
From Truth.
Come, come,
O, kind Spirit of Truth,
Though You contradict my way,
I promise to obey,
Clad in Your grace,
Day by day.
©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved
Seeming
Lord, you pass by.
A sea of hands reaches for You.
Straining to its end,
Determined, one hand, truly, seems all Heart.
You pass, seeming out of reach.
From Heaven the Father sees,
And satisfies the soul’s desire.
“Who touched me?”, says the Son.
© 2017 Joann Nelander
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Faith tested to the nth, suddenly to be here
Sand through an hour glass, seeds promising the crop
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Cathartic rhythms purging like the wild hop
You wanted wine, we gave you beer
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Faith tested to the nth, suddenly to be here
©2013 Joann Nelander
Sing your baptism
You have been given the song
The Wind of the Spirit will fill your lungs
But the notes are yours to form.
Copyright 2013 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
Be Holy! 