Host upon the Altar

Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.

Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.

I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.

A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.

He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.

Host upon the Altar

Pristine the whiteness
Engulfed in radiant flame,
Golden the rays,
Set about Your throne upon the altar.
For all the beauty of the monstrance,
You outshine the artist’s creation,
Just as You outshine Creation.

Give me eyes to see the Reality.
My eyes are designed to apprehend matter.
Here, You give us Mystery, Divinity.
I long to look upon Your fleshly Flesh,
To see Your locks curl mildly on Your shoulders,
To see the flash of smile and twinkle of the eye,
Majesty of manner, and goodly gentleness.

I gaze upon the Host,
All the while my heart and mind
Bring visions to the fore.
Power subdued in obedience,
Might bowed to the Father’s Will,
Abandonment, a fulfillment of prophetic word,
Suffering and salvific.

A Babe, a Boy, a Man,
Commending unto You
From womb to tomb,
In ignominy, yet dignity,
A Life and Death
Swallowing up Your wrath.

He bequeathed to us His Mother,
His ark and monstrance,
Forever refuge of the sinner at the altar.
At the altar of His Dying,
He willed to us a Mother,
Pristine Whiteness.

Why does God let us suffer?

Passion

Bloody sweat,
Pillar and scourge,
Bloody body,
Crown of thorn,
Bloody head,
Bloody face,
Hammer and nails,
Cross,
Bloody hands
Bloody feet,
Pain upon pain,
Thirst and abandonment,
Death and sword,
Broken heart,
Pierced heart,
Blood and Water,
All that Blood,
Washing me.

©2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reservedAll rights reserved

Handmaiden to the King

All I have known
Has possessed me,
The world and the men
Who walk its way.
All I have known
Ruled my heart
And burned on its altars
The wood of my life.

Now, you give me gold,
And open the door
To Your Kingdom,
To enter through my heart
Into Your Heart.

The fire that once
Consumed my wood,
Now, fires the gold You give me
To shape and fashion
A daughter of faith
Alive for You and in You,
Earthy flesh, taking on heaven,
As Your Spirit wants,
And woos and waits,
Upon the handmaiden
Of grace and virtue
You are creating for Yourself
As Bride to the King.

All I now know
Possesses me
For all I know is Thee.

© 2013 Joann Nelander All rights reserved