I Am Mud

I am such a mess.
The rain falls on my soil,
And for a while I am mud.

No hint of fertility.
No hint of growth.
No hint of flowers.

Mud is self-forgetful,
A confusion of gift,
A profusion of promise.

The day will seed to my substance,
Serendipity and surprise,
Plantings for the morrow.

I shall lie here,
Loving my mud,
Waiting for the Sun.

© 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.

TAKE CARE

Pray,
Take care
Who you turn away.

Give thought,
And ‘haps a listening ear.

In truth,
The heart of God
Beats in the beggars breast.

copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

I Am Mud

I am such a mess.
The rain falls on my soil,
And for a while I am mud.

No hint of fertility.
No hint of growth.
No hint of flowers.

Mud is self-forgetful,
A confusion of gift,
A profusion of promise.

The day will seed to my substance,
Serendipity and surprise,
Plantings for the morrow.

I shall lie here,
Loving my mud,
Waiting for the Sun.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Under the Fig Tree

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“I Saw You Under the Fig Tree.”

All our yesterdays are forgotten
With the rush of Tomorrow.
All the words fade away.
Images are fleeting.
All praise passes into oblivion.
The compliments lost,
As unrecorded history.

All things are sand
Falling through the fingers of the Future.
None endure the winds of Time.

So, what of me?
What is the why of me?
Why do You long for me?
I feel your desire pleading
In all about me.

“I saw you under the fig tree.”
What did you see of me, O Lord?
Did you see my yearning?
Were You witness to my sin?
Did you hear the prayer I whispered,
The call of my heart.

Did you see resolve written on my face?
Did you see the love
Swelling my heart?
What did you see of me, Oh Lord,
Under the fig tree?

Because You saw me
Under the fig tree,
My heart opens to see You.
You reveal a world and love
Beyond all that is matter,
Beyond all that once mattered,
Surpassing all that is,
A world of God ,
A world of God in all,
And for all,
Dying to live in all.

I didn’t see You,
Until now,
This precious Now,
Surviving my mortality,
With the reason of my being,
With the holy vision of Thou.

© 2016 Joann Nelander

Love’s Reach

I reach for You
With my life,
All my life.

It is not for naught,
That You labored,
Bore my sins.

I reach for You
With my thoughts.
In the night,
I contemplate Your Dying.

Writhing in agony,
Alone with hell’s phantoms,
Blood called
From Your flesh.
More than a drop
Spoke my name.

Here in the dark,
The echo resounds,
Scatters my foes.

I reach for You
With my heart,
All my heart.

The scourge,
The nails,
The Cross,
Crown Your life,
Given for my life.

You reach out,
Nailed to Your Cross,
Stretched across the ages.
I am but one
Who feels Your Pain.

Your Passion reaches me,
Saves my life,
All my life.

Copyright 2013 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved