I will sit here,
Speaking my heart to You.
Look on me as in a garden
Tending these flowers of love.
I water them,
Sometimes with tears,
Sometimes with sweat,
And always with the water
That flows from my Baptism.
Water my garden from above.
Make my flowers grow,
And as I tend them,
Please send your angels to plant seeds
For our eternal tomorrows,
Far off, My Love,
But soon, eternally, Now.
(C)2016 Joann Nelander
Your Face
You sought solitude and prayer.
In silence, I seek You.
You sought communion with Your Father
I long to see His Face.
You, my Jesus, are that Holy Face.
I set You before the eyes of my heart.
Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander
I am the weaned child,
Upon Your knee.
Forgetful of time,
I curl Your hair about my fingers,
And tug at Your heartstrings.
My toys, the shiny objects of yesterday,
Lie by the stairs,
By which I began my ascent to You.
Comfort me.
Cuddle me.
Tickle me.
You spend Your universe,
As You had always planned,
Delighting one so small,
The least of the Children of Man.
© 2012 Joann Nelander
In loving the creature,
Have you discerned the Creator?
If not,
Why not?
By Joann Nelander
Thomas wanted reality.
Thomas wanted answers.
Thomas wanted undeniable proof.
He trusted his mind.
He trusted his senses.
He walked by sight,
But feared to trust
The witnesses of Resurrection.
A God, with wounds of Love, understood.
A God, marked by our disbelief,
Stood before him,
In plain sight.
Thomas finger my wounds.
Feel the warmth of human flesh.
Feel the throbbing of My Heart,
Bounding against
Your hand in My Side.
Thomas, you sought only
The trappings of reality.
Am I real now,
Real enough for you,
My friend?
Standing, face to face,
Before I Am,
Bought to his knees
By living, breathing, proof,
He stands in our place.
Humbled by faith’s awakening,
Before the True Witness,
Senses satisfied,
Content, now, and forever,
He’ll follow blindly,
Unto death,
Into eternity.
“My Lord and my God.”
Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved
Who has died and gone to the side of Christ,
That does not make intercession,
For all the people
He has failed in life?
Who can stand in Purgatory’s flame,
And cease to cry out
For loved ones
Left in Time?
God hears the cry of the poor,
And who is poorer
Than the abandoned,
And detained at the threshold of Heaven,
Awaiting the forgiveness of those,
Who are careless of their fate?
No one goes to Heaven alone.
The cleansed and the holy,
Grab the tassles
Of your prayer shawl.
Lower your eyes.
Beat your breast.
Forget yourself.
Remember the family of God.
Together let us
Praise the Living God,
Who waits in Mercy for mercy,
For He calls all
To be His own.
©2012 Joann Nelander
Be Holy! 