Flight of Love

I press my ear
To  Your Heart, my Jesus.
With the beating  rhythm,
That bounds within Your Breast,
My Spirit takes wing,
And rushes to Your Side,
That pierced and open side,
That Gate of Heaven.

“Enter,” You invite.
Leaving without my fear,
I enter in.

I am all ear,
You, all Heart
And Fire,
A furnace of Love.

My spirit faints
With longing.
A voice of spirit
Reassures and comforts.

In flight,
My soul alights,
Coming to rest,
As coming home.

You have always
Known me.
In an instant,
I know You,
And, only now,
Know me,
In consummate repose.

Glowing, two hearts beating as one,
Union of spirit,
Mine yielding to Yours,
To become truly myself.

Complete and Resplendent,
As the dawn of New Day,
Colored by a thousand rainbows,
Breaking ranks
And melting,
In a perfusion of light,
Dancing across my soul,
Reverberating, throughout the Universe,
In happy harmony.

O, Hallowed One,
We now are Three,
Your completeness
Embraces me.
I know all of heaven,
In knowing Thee.

Heaven has made room for me,
A sacred chamber,
And a mansion,
Raised in Your Rising in me.

I hear my new name
And am transfigured,
As You speak it.
Cor ad cor loquitor.

Copyright 2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Cry of One Forgiven

How can I thank You
For Your forgiveness,
For that moment,
In which You scattered
My accusers,
And took my part?

As I looked up
From the mud of my despair,
Your majestic countenance
Was all.
You loomed before me,
Brighter than the Sun.

Who could have imagined
Such grandeur?
You wore holiness like a crown
That more than circled Your brow.
Rather, it emanated,
As light from Your Being,
Announcing Who You are?

Only humility can receive You,
And dare Your gaze.
For Your Eyes
Pierce the soul,
Revealing all.

Only those crying for a Savior
Dare look up,
To confess with that glance
Their fault and nakedness,
Helpless and all pleading.

Only the thirsty
Can drink in the majesty
Of Your knowing.
For pride is the travesty,
That hides,
For fear of revelation.

That moment shattered my fear
And rent the clouds of all my life.
Taking proffered Hand,
I rise to my feet
Then, as now, again,

Light embraces me
As my rags fall to my feet.
In their place
Love has woven a mantle,
A robe of Being,
That more than clothes me.

It is a signal grace,
That names me,
With it, You announce
To all Creation
Who I am in You.

My “Yes” reverberates
Throughout the Universe.
I am new,
Like a star at its birth,
Bursting forth
With Your Holiness;
Baptized in Your Redemption.

How can I thank You
For Your forgiveness,
O, You, Who took my part?
Go now,
In search of my accusers.

Copyright 2011 Joann Nelander

The Embrace

image

Clutching You to my heart,
My sins before me,
I make Your Death,
My dying,
And find my life.

You give Yourself to me.
You give Yourself for me.
I hold Your cold,
Your bruised and bloodless Body
As I pray.

Wiping the spittle from Your Face,
I behold the Man,
My sins before me always,
I embrace Your Words.
“Father forgive.”

Copyright 2016 Joann Nelander

In Your Love Forever

You are the sun
At the center of the Cross.
I have polluted the waters of my baptism,
And come again
To the foot of Your Cross.

As my prayer rises
From the dust of my fall,
Into the heaven,
Which is with You,
Stretch out Your arms eternally,
To embrace me yet again,

Bring me to Your Heart,
At the crossing
Of heaven and earth
To be transformed
By You,
And in You,
And through You,
Becoming new man,
A holy man.

Silenced for three days on earth,
That heart of Yours,
Beating now eternally,
Lives in me,
Who will live
Forever in Your love.

© 2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Who is the Poorest of the Poor?

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bear of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called “Beloved”
And “Poor No More”.

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved