Listening and Silent

It seems…
I am always talking to You,
That I am always with You,
And have no doubt
You are with me,
Listening and silent.

I am an endless monologue.
You, hovering Spirit,
Wordlessly eloquent
Abide.
You are Presence and Truth,
Listening and silent,
Thunderously silent,
Save for the stirring of my heart,
And the sometime rush of thought,
Coming, as it were,
From the bowels of my being
With frightening conviction,
And challenging my reticence
To speak aloud
The thoughts of solitude.

Reluctant always
To go about,
And leave the cloister of my heart,
Where in Your chambers I find,
And hold dear,
Private audience with the King,

The world without is a noisy charade,
And woos the pride of me take center stage.
Where suddenly I realize
I have been talking much, too much,
To my regret.

I, naggingly, suspect
I have diminished
What was my treasure
And ceased to learn.
Cacophony of me,
I cease to learn,
And simply rearrange,
That with which I am familiar.

Where do prophet, poet and a would be recluse
Find voice if not in You,
Rejecting even audience
To find You in my silence,
Your silence?

©2012 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

Thirsty For You

Jesus,
Everyday, everyday, everyday,
Fall upon my tongue
As dew upon the obedient grass,
Which yields to Your Wind,
To be proclaimed anew.

Holy One,
Forever, forever, forever,
Go forth from my mouth,
As spring rains
To water the parched earth,
Thirsty for You.

©2013 Joann Nelander
All rights reserved

LONGINUS, SOLDIER SAINT

Longinus,
You, who beheld Life,
As your Savior
Hung between Heaven and Earth,
Dying on His Cross,
Your heart came alive
At the sight of the Mother’s agony.

The thrust of your spear
Lanced the heart of the Christ
And pierced your own
To let Him enter,
He, who would henceforth,
Possess you in contemplation.

His blood, falling upon weak and worldly eyes,,
Touched in you, the pagan,
Opening eyes blind to the things of God,
With the sight of the Holy.

Your life became a contemplation
Of the Dying and the Rising,
Did you fall into a sleep,
As the angels descended to roll away the stone?
Did premonitions of sacred mystery stir you,
Wakening the soldier witness soul,
To serve not merely an emperor,
But True God?

The Cassius of the Crucifixion
Died, only to open his eyes in faith,
And live, henceforth a new man,
With a story of Blood and Water,
And New Life,

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

Heart of Love

Write my love upon my heart
That I might sign it with my life’s blood,
Coursing through its chambers,
Rushing to serve and sing to You.

With every beat,
With every pulsation,
Carry my persuasions to the ends of my being,
Returning as tides to touch anew Your Heart,
United in Spirit,
Kissing each movement and moment,
As I spread myself upon Your hidden shores,
To embrace and race,
In hurried pulse to do You Will
As my own,
Reaching for eternity.

With a kiss upon the brow
Crown all my moments
With the fiat I proffer
In Your ever Present Now.

Heart of Love,
Be in me.
Sighed and signed,
Joann

Dear Reader,
Make my prayer your prayer,
By placing it beside mine,
And together,
We shall love Him best.

Copyright 2016 Joann Nelander

OCEAN OF GRACE

By the gracious gift of God.
You, the Invited,
Receive His Peace.
Heartbeat by heartbeat,
Breath by breath,
In each instant,
His Will comes to you,
The Chosen,
To freely choose.

Remain His by faith.
Living in His favor,
A rain of blessing falls,
To water your being,
And penetrate the ground
On which, and in which,
You stand.

You give consent,
And desire in Love,
And as a plentiful valley,
Moment by moment.
Rooted in the holy,
Sanctified by the Sanctifier,
Life and abundance of fruit,
Are multiplied in you,
And grown up around you,

Grace upon grace,
Help, healing and holiness,
Flow in abundance.
From the springing up,
To the watering flow,
Then to rush,
As to the waiting arms a beloved,
Presuming bath and baptism,
To the ingathering of rivers,
In consecration and convergence,
Love returns to the Ocean
Of its Source.

As a homecoming,
Meandering streams
Cut courses through Time.
The many become seas
To, at long last, mingle
In the Mighty Mind,
And Minder of our souls.

copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

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The Strength of a Man

The strength of a man
Is not in weapons and might,
But in his heart,
Powered by faith in God.

©2014 Joann Nelander

Not Me but Thee

Lord, as I begin this day,
Have it Your way.
I seek not me, but Thee.

When bitter valley threaten,
And I count the cost,
I choose not me, but Thee.

In the dark night.
Trace Your path upon my heart,
That demons, seeking to terrorize and tempt,
Meet not me, but Thee.

When gift and labor
Bring merit and reward,
All glory to, not me, but Thee.

O Lord,
May those I meet upon Your Way,
See, not me, but Thee.

© 2014 Joann Nelander