How sad is Man?
He values the rare,
Exults the extraordinary,
Crowns the celebrity.God, on the Other hand, proliferates.
He calls good all He creates,
Dignifies life by His Love,
And Humankind by His Incarnation.For want of goodness,
Man may usurp the place of God,
Seat himself
Upon that lofty throne.For the want of love
Man may throw life away,
Too small, too young, too needy
Too dependent to matter.How sad is Man upon his throne?
He beats his chest,
And declares his liberty;
Forgets his neighbor, chooses self.How sad is Man,
Unencumbered of diety,
His own god,
And lord of all he has stolen.Yet, God dignifies his defiant creature.
God respects the time of Man,
And gives His Mercy
Sway over Holy Wrath.Out-side of Time.
There is only the Eternal.
In Time, mind and Man are matter-dependent,
Sustained in rhythms tuned by the Creator.When Time is rolled up
With the stars, like a scroll,
And fire devours all matter,
Where will the spark of Man exist?While living, Man chooses,
Until Death declares
All he has chosen final,
The Star of Hope extinguished.O Man, gladden the lot of Men.
Your eternity begins in the Heart of God.
You are rare.
You are extraordinary.Celebrate the Lord, Your God!
©2011 Joann Nelander
Tag Archives: Religion & Spirituality
The Miracle of Days
New day, the world awakens.
Blue Earth still hung
Among the stars,
Spinning and orbiting.
We rise once more,
Unfazed by planetary whirl.Sunshine at my window,
Here we go, again.
Out of the bed,
Onto a floor,
Solid ‘neath my feet,
Oh, what a grand illusion.Without qualm,
In phase with the heavens
The world of men
Slept in surrender
To the slumber
Of the night.Peace, born of Faith,
Anticipating the morn,
Believing dawn would again.
As done before.
Life, a celebration
Risking response.All creation rising,
What will you
In your doings?
Your mark, your glory!
Waste not a quark!
O, Miracle of Days!By Joann Nelander
Let Me
Let me be the Star that guides.
Let me be the Voice crying in the wilderness.
Let me be the Brother that leads a brother.
Let me be the Mother bidding
“Do whatever He tells you.”Let me be tears upon Your feet,
Let me be anointing oil.
Let me be a cloak that hides your nakedness.
Let me be the prayer of the Blind Bartimaeus:
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”Let me pray with You in the garden
Let me draw a spiritual sword by Your Side.
Let me help you carry Your Cross.
Let me weep with You for the Fallen and the Lost,
Lamenting, “.. you would not be gathered.”Let me feel with Mother Mary
Let me cry out like the Magdalen.
Let me, like the Centurion, recognize You in Your Dying.
Let me sit beside the Angel at Your Tomb.
“He has risen, He is not here”
By Joann Nelander
Empowered #Poetry #Religion # Prayer
It is not my prayer.
It is our prayer.
I pray with the Church.
I am one among all,
All Yours,
All giving voice
To the Church Militant,Called by Your Name,
HaShem, the Name!Empowered by the Name,
HaShem, the Name.Copyright Joann Nelander © 2011 All rights reserved
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.
No Empty Dream
Lamenting, I quit my case.
Sorrowing, my complaints lie with me
In dust and ashes.
The plaintiff has become defendant.I rest the case I brought against You.
What have I proven?
That I never knew You?
That I never sought You?Counterfeits sufficed to fill my belly.
There was always another dream on the horizon.
Tomorrows pretended to satisfy my emptiness.
The chase was the gambit that became the game.Before You showed me mercy,
You showed me Me
Not the Me of mirrors, but the Me of my heart,
That shrunken pigmy of diminishing proportion.Among Men, there is no forgiveness like Yours.
If judged by Men, I would be meted punishment
By the self-righteously righteous,
While the unrighteous, would applaud my vice and welcome me at the hearth,
No forgiveness necessary, where sin is no sin.As gift, the clarity of Day, dawned suddenly,
You appeared with Light as Your garment,
In Your Light I was all Darkness,
Pretense dissipated as Your Sun rose.The world appeared not as a prize but as a wonder.
Nature didn’t dictate; it served.
The heart of mothers where turned back to their children.
And You reigned as King.I would have fainted away,
Had not the Good Thief stood by Your side.
He smiled my way,
Eyes twinkling at the memory of his meeting You upon Your Cross.
Assurances asked, assurances given.
Simple eternal words.Coming full circle, I rest upon Your arm,
You lift up my head and incline to comfort me.
Mercy smiles on my repentant heart,
And plans for me a future full of hope.You Who laid the foundation of the Earth,
Plot a course for me through the Wilderness of the world.
My pilgrimage from sin to saint
Leads through Two Hearts bound by a Mystery uniting Heaven and Earth.Birthed anew in Baptism,
Restored again in Reconciliation,
Your grace acts on me, Your grace acts in me.
All grace that waited upon my willing.My will is now that of a child.
I follow at Your side, learning Your ways.
Your Words are my food and my fullness.
Heaven is no longer an empty dream, but a Promise.
From You lips on the Cross, piercing my heart.“Father forgive them.
They know not what they do.”Copyright Joann Nelander © 2011 All rights reserved.
Be Holy! 