Tag Archives: Religion and Spirituality

A Drop in the Ocean

by

A drop in the ocean of the Lord,
Minuscule,
Tear-sized,
Hardly felt upon the cheek,
Brushed away
To fall into the river of Your love.

Once alone,
Barely a something,
Really “a nothing”,
A lonely singularity,
But felt upon a Heart.

The tears of others,
Conjoined,
Confusion,
Profusion,
Holy joy in headlong rush,
Whisked over rock and rubble,
Carried by unseen arms,
Pressed on
By force of a Holy Will.

Cascades’ roar arousing fear,
Bewilderment,
Mingled vigor,
Hope rises to the surface
And churns the deep.

Fate creates a splash
And a rivulet of escape,
An instant of choice,
Puddle or precipice?

I hang upon a prayer,
Borne aloft in new fall,
Truly free fall,
Onto the rushing stream,
And weeping humanity prevails.

One drop,
Now millions,
Energy,
Direction,
Momentum,
Kinetic kaleidoscope,
Mirroring Divine power.

The tide of many waters,
Convergence,
At the edge,
And then the fall,
Not like the first,
In free abandonment.

One drop,
Transformed by divine law,
Holy Obedience.
Tumultuous streams
Carve the land without,
And all within.

Fertile flood of holy tears,
Serve now His Plan,
A drop in the ocean of God.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

,

Joann Nelander
lionessblog.com

Dreams Dreamt Before

by

Oh, I’ve waken to new sunshine

Of dawns risen o’er the hills.

I’ve swum in quivering rivers,

And climbed in flight as gulls.

I’ve shown bright with each moonlight

And fallen with each star.

I’ve feathered clouds with soft down

And sprinkled rain afar.

I’ve snuggled to a blade of grass

And clutched a rose as dew.

I’ve painted rainbows ‘cross the sky,

And lavished them with hue.

I’ve suckled sweetness from a bloom,

And fluttered, free to soar.

I’ve slept beneath the Tree of Life

And dreamt these dreams before.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Dawn Comes

by

O see,
Dawn comes
The first rays of Light
Upon the mountain.
How I have waited.
How I have longed.
Having embraced Faith
I possessed Truth,
But it was like the dawn,
Outside myself.
Written, as on tablets,
But, not yet,
Written on my heart.
It’s glory was God”s,
And not my own,
Not of my forging,
Not for me to fashion,
As a graven image,
Or molten calf,,
Arising from the fires
Of my concupiscence,
A counterfeit for Love,
Revealing only the blindness
Fallen on hearts,
Minds, and wills
Apart from Light
Of Dayspring
On Holy Night.

Now come
The long awaited symbolon
To make whole
To heal my soul.

O Holy Night
Putting an end
To lonely darkness
O Holy sight,
I wait
To see aright.

By Joann Nelander

Heaven’s Feast

by

I am hungry, Lord.
Yet, it is not my belly
That speaks.
How is it
That You have
Subjected my gut,
And even my mind
I am Your weaned child,
Yet pangs assail me?
Is it my heart
That desires more?

When You filled me,
I believed I would be
Satisfied forever.
My capacity was full
To overflowing.

As promised,
You made me grow.
As my heart expanded
In Your tutorage,
My blood alone
Did not suffice.
I fed on You,
Body and blood,
And the demand
For Life in me
Kept pace.

Here I am, again,
At Your Table,
At Banquet,
With my King.
Thankfully, my Food
Is in steady supply,
And, in that,
I will be nourished,
And hungry no more.

You never deny me.
May I never deny You,
My Host and my Plenty,
Until, at last,
I sup at Heaven’s Feast
For all Eternity.

How Poor Am I?

by

How poor am I?
No one suspects my poverty,
For I hide it
‘Neath empty bravado.

All show,
The fool fooling all
But myself.
Yet, sometimes,
I , too, believe
My haughty claims.
How poor am I?

Copyright Joann Nelander 2012
All rights reserved

Abandonment to the Will of God

by

1

Abandonment to the Will of God,
That’s the Call.
What is holding you back
From accepting the Cross?

Give God your plans.
Give God your anger.
Give God your pain.
Give God your way.

Give God the nails
That nail you to your will.
Allow the nails in His Hands
To hold you fast with Him.

Our mouths may praise
His Father with Him
In this the Holy Hour of Abandonment.
We call His Name
As the crowds cry “Crucify.”

This is the hour for prayer.
Then shall come the fruit of Crucifixion,
Then will God’s Justice descend,
Then will the rain fall.

In each heart that looks,
Cries, mourns,
Goes to their homes disheartened,
And yet believes,
A flower will grow.

God will yet feed the multitude,
Not with the bread of Mammon,
But with His Holy Flesh
Willing supplied,
The same flesh
Savagely devoured
By the mob.

As the praise goes up,
Then will His Reign begin,
Then will God bless the Land,
Then will the Father
Kiss the multitude
Who dared lift the Son
High above the Earth.

©2012 Joann Nelander