I held the ocean to my ear.
I heard it speak with peaceful roar,
And, hearing, I went off,
Leaving on the shore,
The secret of His presence,
But not forgetting,
What He had said,
In that moment of Eternity,
Which is forever
Yet, not of Time.
© 2012 Joann Nelander
Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.
Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.
Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.
Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.
© 2015 Joann Nelander
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Faith tested to the nth, suddenly to be here
Sand through an hour glass, seeds promising the crop
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Cathartic rhythms purging like the wild hop
You wanted wine, we gave you beer
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Faith tested to the nth, suddenly to be here
©2013 Joann Nelander
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Faith tested to the nth, suddenly to be here
Sand through an hour glass, seeds promising the crop
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Cathartic rhythms purging like the wild hop
You wanted wine, we gave you beer
Eons marked in time, an ocean drop by drop
Faith tested to the nth, suddenly to be here
©2013 Joann Nelander
Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.
Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.
Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.
Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.
© 2015 Joann Nelander
Lord of the centuries,
Knit, of our pain, the knots,
That mysteriously arrange themselves
Across our days.
Guide, by unseen fingers,
Each little pearl,
To form a cloth
Alive with Your Golden threads,
Infinitely more than happenstance or tragedy.
Each strand of Time a mystery,
Bathed in trial and tears,
Yet rich in Awe,
Resplendent in Beauty,
And the gracious beneficence
Of sacrificial love.
Whole cloth,
Woven into a seamless robe,
You don in majesty,
Humble and meek in triumph o’er our graves,
As Life welcomes to the Banquet,
Our souls, now clad in bodies,
One with Your Own.
© 2015 Joann Nelander
Be Holy! 