Anchor

Hope, an anchor tossed,
Plummeting to fathomless deep,
Careless of the cost.
Hope, an anchor tossed,
Implacable, while storms accost.
Faith, the ground, the keep.
Hope an anchor tossed,
Plummeting to fathomless deep

Copyright Joann Nelander

(experimental triolet)

SUNRISE IN HIGH HEAVEN

Empty the tomb,
The wrappings set aside.
No Body to be found,
Faith in triumph shouts.

It is Easter dawn.
Joy spills or’ heaven’s ledge
As sun rises to high heaven.

Hope blankets earth’s face.
Love penetrates its depth.
A people, newborn,
Called forth to be light.

Witnesses stand forth,
Wrapped about in wedding garb,
They go forth to meet the Groom.

© 2014 Joann Nelander

Who really died?

 

Who really died?
I never saw
The light of day.
Black descended,
Of a kind
I knew not,
And then no more….

How did I know you?
All I knew was you.
You flavored my becoming,
Your genes, my genes,
Your feelings,
Emotional rhythms,
Touching me
By blood connection.
All this,
And then no more…..

How did I feel you?
Warmth, gentle rocking
To and fro.
I felt you,
Heart-sounds
Surrounding me,
Pressing me,
Impressing me.
You whooshed at times
And hummed.
And then no more…..

How did I leave you?
I knew anguish
As once I knew you,
Your blood feeding mine,
I knew as parting,
Leaving behind mother
As gift withdrawn,
And bid goodbye.
Too young for endings,
Too soon to die,
And then no more…..

How now and by and by?
Sorrow and black
And then the Light.
New Day, as womb,
Enfolding me.
Life ending
Beginning yet again.
And I behold
The Face of God.
I live,
Knowing Love,
Yet still,
I wait for you.

Eternity has a door,
God knocks from His side,
I listen for you.
Pray but open the latch.
That you might die no more,
And free from sin,
Enter in.

There is yet more.
Who really died that day?

©2013 Joann Nelander

Life, Confession, and Hope for Infinite Love

O happy confession! I went just this morning.  Life begins again with renewed hope for the coming days, maybe, many years, or, perhaps, only moments.  I just need to go forward, open to life and, most of all, charity, giving it, as best I can with apologies to match my failures.

A powerful instinct, certainly not reserved for me alone, tells me that the grave in not the end. If it were, what a mockery the sacrifices of caring and struggle, war, family, and country, if it were, I can see why the practical atheist and agnostic would advocate for the convenience of death in the womb, the rallying cry of the pragmatic "progressive" society, planning to bring forth only as much life as it can use.  If no resurrection of the dead, why the fuss to perfume our living corpses.  Blessed be the grave, bring it on, O happy holocaust!

My sad suppositions terrify me.  Give me that candle to carry into the darkness and the holy regard of those praying for the dead. I am not alone in desiring eternity, and the company of the living forever.  It is the sun that comes up every morning and the hope that can only be fulfilled in One who is more than matter, and yet, matter does testify by it very existence, in its coming to be, and, so my hope is that He that brought it forth, love me into the infinity of His Being.

Who really died?

 

Who really died?
I never saw
The light of day.
Black descended,
Of a kind
I knew not,
And then no more….

How did I know you?
All I knew was you.
You flavored my becoming,
Your genes, my genes,
Your feelings,
Emotional rhythms,
Touching me
By blood connection.
All this,
And then no more…..

How did I feel you?
Warmth, gentle rocking
To and fro.
I felt you,
Heart-sounds
Surrounding me,
Pressing me,
Impressing me.
You whooshed at times
And hummed.
And then no more…..

How did I leave you?
I knew anguish
As once I knew you,
Your blood feeding mine,
I knew as parting,
Leaving behind mother
As gift withdrawn,
And bid goodbye.
Too young for endings,
Too soon to die,
And then no more…..

How now and by and by?
Sorrow and black
And then the Light.
New Day, as womb,
Enfolding me.
Life ending
Beginning yet again.
And I behold
The Face of God.
I live,
Knowing Love,
Yet still,
I wait for you.

Eternity has a door,
God knocks from His side,
I listen for you.
Pray but open the latch.
That you might die no more,
And free from sin,
Enter in.

There is yet more.
Who really died that day?

Be-Attitude–The “No Handed Bandit”

"You can be cool and not have hands" Love it!! We can all find something we lack to insert into this beatitude.

Possibilities

To Your Silence

Here I am Lord
I have brought the world and my day with me
What a motley crew arrayed before You
But not in vain.

We come with a clatter
My noise, our noise,
To the Silence.
The deafening roar
To the hallowed stillness.

Whisper in the chamber of our meeting
Where we tent with You,
Hope for the dying,
Faith to the listening,
Love to the willing.

“The Holy Spirit Doesn’t Go on Vacation”

Into the Stillness – Poetry & Prayer

Knowing You

I have been flawed
For all the years
You have known me.

Ah, but You
Have known me.
In this is my hope,
That I have known You, too.

Abandonment to the Will of God

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

Abandonment  (Read by author)

LEST WE LOOSE HEART REMEMBER

LEST WE LOOSE HEART REMEMBER

Just One More Day

A Nation cries
In want of Thee.
Time hurries,
All the while consuming,
That which our hands have built.

Our plenty devoured
In furnaces of desire.
“More, give us more,
The engines roar. ”

You wait,
That we might recognize
Your reign.
Your sun rises on each new day.
You are patient.
Wait, wait, wait….

Obedience is not our way.
We turn only blind eyes
And misprize chastisement’s scourge.
We know only
The gates of Hell demand,
Demand our sacrifice,
Human sacrifice.
We do not deny them.

No place too sacred to invade.
Give the gods their due,
For they pay our way.
After all, we are only clay,
Living to be merry
One more day.

You speak of Love and Eternity.
Our bellies cry out “Now”
“Who needs Your Throne!”
Give us bread without God Alone.
Our way,
Just one more day.

purity of heart.m4a

 

©2012 Joann Nelander All rights reserved

Passion-Deed

Lord, my tears are plentiful,
As I behold Thee in Thy rest.
Kneeling in poverty of spirit,
I am thrice blessed.

Your forever Union
With our Heavenly Father
Embraces me as the child,
That I am want to be,
Obedient, merciful and mild.

The Holy Spirit of God
Rests upon me,
Gifting me in sorrow for sin,
Raising me above the world,
And lifting me
To the lap of Abba Father,
With You, within.

Here in hallowed Presence,
My tears fall upon the garden,
You plant in my soul,
To water this consecrated plot
Replete with the promised fulfillment
That heals and makes me whole.

Already, but not yet,
Here in seed,
With You in Eternity,
Won by Cross and Passion-Deed.

©2012 Joann Nelander

Waxing Proud

I left You long ago,
To wander in a world of choices,
Bombarded by alluring voices.

I left at home
All cords that bound,
Proudly casting off all staked to holy ground.

I soared mounting the wind,
On Icharus’ wings waxed proud,
Till sun and heat spoke Truth aloud.

I left You long ago.
Now in swift descent I fall,
Humbled, hoping to be caught by Lord of All.

Love’s Mansion

A child lost,
A child stolen,
A child abandoned,
But not by Love.

Love held his hand,
As Death pursued.
Love clutched his life
To hold him in her heart.

When all doors shut,
When clouds descended,
When law conspired,
When men called evil good.

Love shared his pain.
Love healed.
Love fostered love.
Prepared a home.

Love opened the earth
To receive the blood
Of innocence,
Once more.

Love found a way,
To thwart the grave,
To forgive, to forget,
To encompass and enfold.

Love builds a mansion
With waiting rooms,
For mother, father
And lineage long.

From Adam past
Unto blessed Eternity,
Love reclaims,
Love invites to Mercy feast.

Love simply loves,
Sinner, martyr, saint,
The lost, the stolen, the abandoned,
Now espoused.

© 2012 Joann Nelander

Cloud Clutter

Grey the day with cloud and clutter,
Music’s muted melody obscured,
Discord in search of harmony,
Gives lie to the Promise of His Presence,
If Truth were only that which can be seen.
 

Faith, though,
Believes not vision, but God,
For God’s sake.
All powers of perception,
But a touch of His finger,
A curtain parted for a peek,
Hardly the measure
Of the Almighty’s might.
 

By Faith,
The eyes of the soul see,
And pierce the veil,
Rendering gain,
That gleaned in blindness,
So I  count the clouds joy,
For Faith keeps hope alive.
 

I am all believing,
And with conviction,
Clutched and cradled,
Felt with the fingers of my trust.
I live the Promise of His Presence.

 
© 2012 Joann Nelander

Poetry Picnic week 23

Blossom in the Desert

Sad the plight of Man,
Mourning the lose of Paradise.
Captive to cowardice,
Hiding from his God.
Cast out, betraying,
And accusing one another,
Empty of grace, forlorn.
One garden of hope remains.
One paradise,
Ready for the Spring.
One immaculate heaven on earth.
O Virgin, say but the Word,
And your “Fiat”
Will blossom forth in Faith,
Rarity of your virginal ground.
Immaculate fecundity,
Queen Mother, Desert Willow,
New Eve, bearer of New Adam,
With new creation, rejoicing.
Voicing all thanksgiving,
A Eucharist for the sons and daughters of God.

© 2011 Joann Nelander

Rejoice

Rejoice!

Give me, God,
This glad rejoicing.
I am like a beggar at the gate.
My rags declare my need.
My knock trumpets my desire.

Your courts are full
Of plentiful redemption.
Wine and the merriment
Of the forgiven,
Invite my humble footsteps.

Although I bring myself
To Your threshold,
I cannot enter in,
For Sin is an effrontery,
An open assault on Your Majesty.

All awaits Your mercy.
Heaven is silent before You.
Tears are now my only arraignment
The voice of Your messenger
The only hope in my wilderness.

The King, Himself,
Rises from His throne.
Crowns are cast down at His feet.
As the sun shines from His Being,
Mercy rays meet my eyes,
And melt my heart.

He draws near.
His hand is at the Gate
To let in the beggar and the multitude,
For I am not alone.
The nations,
In long suffering and sorrow,
Kneel with me.

He approaches.
He is near.
Wedding garments in place of our polluted rags,
Rings and sandals for prodigal feet.

He comes,
He comes mid glad rejoicing.
We need wait but a moment.
The Virgin is with Child,
And He has left His throne
To succor the poor of all the earth.

By Joann Nelander

How’s that Change Working out for You?!

Anchor

Hope, an anchor tossed,
Plummeting to fathomless deep,
Careless of the cost.
Hope, an anchor tossed,
Implacable, while storms accost.
Faith, the ground, the keep.
Hope an anchor tossed,
Plummeting to fathomless deep

Copyright Joann Nelander

(experimental triolet)

Perfected Through the Cross

Christogram with Jesus Prayer in Romanian: Lor...

"Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, the sinner"/ Wikipedia

I would like to offer You the perfect,
But all I have is me.
So, here I am,
Sorrowful, in all my misery.

In hope I approach You,
Through the gaping wound in Your Side,
Through which flowed Your Mercy,
Your Final Word.

Wash me, Son of God,
In that endless river,
Your Life poured out
Throughout Time.

I stand, I kneel,
Then prostrate
At Your Cross,
I wait to receive You.

You are taken down,
And placed in Mary’s arms,
It is in her arms,
I find You.

There with You,
I am held fast,
Giving and receiving,
The Love You have won for Me.

By Joann Nelander

Holy Hope

Holy Hope, I see before me the path of Jesus.
It trails into my future, while it’s clarity fades as it leaves this present moment.
I am like Bartimeus along this way.
I call out for my Savior.
At my plea angels hurry to my side with the balm to heal my blindness.
I see the Christ with me, before me, beside me, beneath me as hallowed ground, above me as Sun’s light and warmth.
In Hope I never walk alone.
Companions of my life, hand in hand,
Faith and Love abide with me.
My life follows in His steps to that place prepared for me.
Here on this Earth, I, too, know the Cross.
And in this Day, I, too, experience the Paradise of His Presence.

The One Who First Descended From Heaven Ascends

From a sermon by Saint Augustine, bishop

No one has ever ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven

Today our Lord Jesus Christ ascended into heaven; let our hearts ascend with him. Listen to the words of the Apostle: If you have risen with Christ, set your hearts on the things that are above where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God; seek the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For just as he remained with us even after his ascension, so we too are already in heaven with him, even though what is promised us has not yet been fulfilled in our bodies.

Christ is now exalted above the heavens, but he still suffers on earth all the pain that we, the members of his body, have to bear. He showed this when he cried out from above: Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? and when he said: I was hungry and you gave me food.

Why do we on earth not strive to find rest with him in heaven even now, through the faith, hope and love that unites us to him? While in heaven he is also with us; and we while on earth are with him. He is here with us by his divinity, his power and his love. We cannot be in heaven, as he is on earth, by divinity, but in him, we can be there by love.

He did not leave heaven when he came down to us; nor did he withdraw from us when he went up again into heaven. The fact that he was in heaven even while he was on earth is borne out by his own statement: No one has ever ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man, who is in heaven.

These words are explained by our oneness with Christ, for he is our head and we are his body. No one ascended into heaven except Christ because we also are Christ: he is the Son of Man by his union with us, and we by our union with him are the sons of God. So the Apostle says: Just as the human body, which has many members, is a unity, because all the different members make one body, so is it also with Christ. He too has many members, but one body.

Out of compassion for us he descended from heaven, and although he ascended alone, we also ascend, because we are in him by grace. Thus, no one but Christ descended and no one but Christ ascended; not because there is no distinction between the head and the body, but because the body as a unity cannot be separated from the head.

Hell – the Abandonment of Hope

We are made with a longing to look upon the face of God.  This is our hope; this is our fulfillment.  What eternal frustration to reject that for which we are made.

We catch a glimpse of  souls on the way to hell, frolicking and laughing in apparent merriment, quipping “How dull a place, heaven.”  Self-satisfied and mocking, they murmur one to the other, “Give me the place of movers and shakers”; “Yes, a place for interesting, unbridled, minds.” “Amen, a place for unleashed and raw emotion.”

Dante has the hell-bent, running in constant activity after a banner upon which nothing is written. To what end the writhing corruption of sin, the lust for feeling until nothing is felt at all.

We are made for so much more.

The Man and The Eagle

The Story

Update – The Age of "Just Hope It"

“Amen” to what he said.  Charles Krauthammer commenting on the Nobel Prize Surprise supposedly heralding the shining future of Obama the Peacenik and Flower Child ushering in the Age of “Just Hope It!”

“What’s come from Obama holding his tongue while Iranian demonstrators were being shot and from his recognizing the legitimacy of a thug regime illegitimately returned to power in a fraudulent election? Iran cracks down even more mercilessly on the opposition and races ahead with its nuclear program.

What’s come from Secretary of State Hillary Clinton taking human rights off the table on a visit to China and from Obama’s shameful refusal to see the Dalai Lama (a postponement, we are told). China hasn’t moved an inch on North Korea, Iran or human rights. Indeed it’s pushing with Russia to dethrone the dollar as the world’s reserve currency.

What’s come from the new-respect-for-Muslims Cairo speech and the unprecedented pressure on Israel for a total settlement freeze? “The settlement push backfired,” reports The Washington Post, and Arab-Israeli peace prospects have “arguably regressed.”

And what’s come from Obama’s single most dramatic foreign policy stroke — the sudden abrogation of missile defense arrangements with Poland and the Czech Republic that Russia had virulently opposed? For the East Europeans it was a crushing blow, a gratuitous restoration of Russian influence over a region that thought it had regained independence under American protection.”

Krauthammer hopes too, in the form of a question:

Surely we got something in return for selling out our friends?

Ahh, you guessed it, did you?!

NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, talk it up President Obama. “Peace,peace” and prizes for peace! So there is no peace to speak of, only talk and the shifting sands of duplicity beneath our feet.

Update: Personally, for me, a bumper sticker speaks more to truth and peace than Obama.  It says: “No Jesus. No Peace. Know Jesus. Know Peace.” I know Charles Krauthammer wouldn’t put it that way, being Jewish; however, the way Christ preached, of truth and sacrificial love, rings throughout Krauthammer’s body of work.  Krauthammer doesn’t hand you ‘pie in the sky’, he preaches the need to slug it out in the trenches with our ethics, morals and integrity in tact.

Unarguably Founded On Christian Principles

I needed solid footing and balance after the bombardment of an aberrant President and press. Stephen Prothero writing for USA Today says:

Now comes President Obama, who in January in his inaugural address spoke of this country as “a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus — and non-believers.” On April 6 in Turkey, Obama added that the United States “does not consider itself a Christian nation or a Jewish nation or a Muslim nation” but “a nation of citizens who are bound by ideals and a set of values.

It was just such that drove me in search of visual confirmation in Washington D.C.  Now home from our Nation’s capital, I feel again on the cutting edge of a clandestine warfare coming of age and to light.  Washington D.C. did indeed confirm that the United States of America was unarguably founded as a Nation established on Christian principals as document after document, monument of monument, Statesmen and heroes alike, testify to, in stone, and marble,valor and blood, recorded there for posterity, dramatically and historically.  Homecoming, however, is returning to the fray.  It is waking up each day to being unceremoniously attacked by the daily news of the madness that is Obama.

However, it not just Obama, that drives me to distraction, it’s the incessant kowtowing menagerie of his Orwellian Animal Farm. George Orwell, to his chagrin, aside from being proved right, can now see his book lived out in the American experiment.  Eric Blair’s (George Orwell’s) satire is on parade for all to see and most of the animals are oblivious to the part they are playing in the threatening demise of our Nation as a Republic” of the People, by the People and for the People.

Americans are not perfect people.  We are like all people, flawed; and, as foreseen by the Founding Fathers, we need our checks and balances to curtail our greed and self- centeredness, to keep an eye open and watch our backs as a People.  Our checks and balances are gone. Our press is the servant of the President, our Congress is the servant of our President and our people seem content to worship at his feet.  So much for balance.

Our weaknesses as individual’s who are capable of resenting one group or another within the American system are being used against us.  We are being set against imagined “masters” despite the fact that our nation is the free-est on earth. All the “animals” set free by Obama’s Hope Machine, with childish idealistic and idyllic dreams can now High Five one another in the name of justice and progress, oblivious to the new chains being forged for their piggy hands and feet.  Yes, power-hungry pigs, like Orwell’s, Napoleon, are on the prowl ready to become their new totalitarian dictators. The little happy piggies will some learn on their Animal Farm that “All Animals Are Equal  But Some Are More Equal Than Others.” Oppression, call it what you will, even “the Audacity of Hope” is no less oppression. Martin Luther Jr.’s “I have a dream.” is being replaced by Obama’s dream which it best described as, “I have a nightmare.”

Foot Washing at Washington Park

It speaks for itself.