As the Father is Perfect

Be perfect, You say.
"Be perfect, as the Father is perfect."

"Perfection" is held before our eyes,
Hung in the heavens, like a star,
Like a luminous star,
As a star going before us,
Beckoning to us,
Inviting, "Come follow me."

In the dark of Your Mystery,
We make ready,
We journey forth,
Answering a call,
A call written on the heart,
Engraved, as by prophetic fathers,
Beyond imagining,
More certain than Death’s curtain,
Far, far, greater than the cost.

"Perfection" begins life as a babe,
Bound in swaddling,
A law conceived in the soul,
Bidding trust,
Coaxing obedience.
"Come, follow Me"

Journey through the Night.
When you have done all,
Spent all,
Lay down your dreams,
Your treasure,
For the rest lies with the Heavenly Host.

Touching the earth once more
In celestial wonderment,
With a loving caress,
And a word of command,
Fulfilled, as it is spoken,
"Be perfect, as the Father is perfect",
Angels whisper you home.

 

Copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

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

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.

Living Now

I live because You died,
Not in guilt,
But in the freedom of Love.

Choices are arrayed before me,
Multiplied by the days of my Life.
With the breaking
Of each New Day,
I rise forever
To choose You,

With the breaking
Of the Bread,
With the Lifting Up,
With the Cross before my eyes
I am a witness
Of the Resurrected One.

You Christ upon the altar,
You, Christ, living anew
In me,
Walk the Earth again
Leaving now my footsteps.

©2012 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?

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)

NOW FOR ETERNITY

All days have led to this day.
Yesterdays march up to the edge in Time,
But cannot enter upon my Now.

As precursors they stand,
Peering onto this Today,
Blind as bats.
Their edges approach
But halt at the Present.

Here I reign with my will.
If all my mistakes
Shout for change,
Am I now the fool
Who fails to learn?

With the sun,
I am begun.
Eternity beckons me,
Where Time cannot go,
Invites, “Come.”

He, Who sails on Eternity’s Wing,
Would be my Mender,
Not in a breaking of the Past,
But a knitting of it,
A seamless cloth,
As His very own.

The morrow begins as a Way I choose;
Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow
Are gift to my being,
And beginning in this Now,
I am His.

©2015 Joann Nelander