One Shot Wednesday – Week 40


One Shot Wednesday – Time again to read and write.  Let the fun begin!

Here’s my one shot:

A Thousand Little Moments

I fail and I fall.
“Yes, Father, it’s me, again.”
My prayers and tears reach Your heart with plaintiff sighs.

I reach for Love, as a baby grasps the finger,
Securing You to my heart,
Binding You by trifles.
A thousand little moments, like a knitter’s weave,
Trivial triumphs conquering like souls,
For made in Your image, I desire only You.

Of wooing, my begging be a part.
I turn, my God, to You, as a prayer with every care.
Prayer and tears, now, all one,
I nestle to Your breast and am all ear.

I listen as beat upon beat,
Love’s rhythm reassures me of the next,
And, of Your eternal constancy.
I listen, as for a whisper, and fear not
Whisper every care, and fretful prayer.

I reach for You with every breath,
And sigh when You draw nigh.
You answer with a mother’s warmth,
Bending low, picking me up, and pressing me
To Your consoling bosom.

“What is it my child. Am I not here? Haven’t I given you all?”
You kiss away my tears
And delight in the exchange.
I have given nothing but complaint,
Yet, You are full of smiles.

A thousand little moments knit our day.
I cry and You comfort.
I beckon and You bend in kind regard.
You draw me into that chamber,
In which I was formed,
That hallowed space,
In which my time began.

Heaven and rest contained
In one all holy Name.
Name me, my God,
And I will come into being,
Called forth from my darkness
Into Your marvelous Day.

All our moments measured by Your mercy,
I cry out for a heart made unto Your own,
That I may grow to give Your Love.
Love begetting love, for love alone.

Copyright © 2011 Joann Nelander   All rights reserved.

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It will cheer you, lift your spirits, brighten your mood. It goes a long way in stealing you away from the ho-hum humdrum. There is so much talent on display.

One Shot Wednesday – Week 38

One Shot Wednesday – Time again to read and write.  Let the fun begin!

Here’s my one shot:

The Breech

How great is the distance between us?
Some would say,
The span from East to West,
Or measure in miles the chasm
Stretching from Heaven to Hell.
Others count the centuries,
Since Your earthly Presence
In hallowed flesh.

There is no numbering
Eternity or Divinity.
You are closer than my breath.
Your Heart beats within my breast.
Day by day,
Nay, moment by moment,
I pick up Your rhythm.

Traversing the breech,
You make me Your own.
Small, but beloved,
I repose in willful abandonment.
Grace-filled faith,
A movement,
Not a measure,
Soars to the heavens,
In flights of trust in You.

Copyright © 2011 Joann Nelander   All rights reserved.

Standing invitation to visit One Stop Poetry- Where Poets, Writers and Artists Meet.

It will cheer you, lift your spirits, brighten your mood. It goes a long way in stealing you away from the ho-hum humdrum. There is so much talent on display.

One Shot Wednesday – Week 33

Time again for One Shot Wednesday.

Here’s my one shot:

The Fall

 

Chains ethereal bind my soul
Confusion clouds the pathways of my reason
Who could have guessed the menace
It was over in a moment with hasty but firm decision.
Subtle flirtation turned a dance of dalliance.
Trojan welcomed without caution.
Grace dismissed with contemporary flair.

Reality now comes in many colors
Shades of gray,
A balancing act to fit the season.
Nothing’s black or white,
Anymore.

Who could have known the cost?
Who would have called it betrayal?
Yet, I had chosen.
I ignored the Voice,
All appetite,
And caressing desire.

Somehow I knew
There would be a price to pay
But how it would feel,
And what it would be,
Floated in some mist,
Too easily brushed  aside
With the feeling of shackles,
Weary old taboos;
So, Adam devoured the apple.

Handle it, I could and would,
Just later…
Now, was for me.
Later, for regret.
A logical scheme.
It worked for me!

The deed
And the darkness descended,
One following the other.
Night fell like a mantle on my shoulders.
Where the joy?
Where promised pleasure?
Where my once bright countenance.

I lifted myself to myself,
Sad at the pillage
Visited upon my soul,
I am alone,
Alone, but for my thoughts,
Thoughts, that, too, accuse you.

The world feels different today,
A bit more cloaked,
As with a secret,
But, I assure myself,
All’s well, the same.

Waking in another Kingdom
I draw back the curtain:
Without, a sky stripped of it’s stars,
Within,only black,
No sun of clarity,
No heart of love.

I can no longer trust
That dawn and morning light
Will follow in sure order.
Yet, somehow, I fear they might.
It must be me who changed?

I lingered in this abyss,
Fearing the permanence of my loss.
No stigmatizing letter branded,
For the absence of shame,
But my wax had melted,
and molecules rearranged,
Hardening, misshapen.

Drinking in the Truth,
I could not swallow
The gall of repentance.
Pride, like a master craftsmen,
Fashioned my demise
Tightening his chain about my heart.

My life, my life,
It’s my life!
I raged at unseen angels.
‘Til falling back upon myself,
I licked my wounds.
I donned a mask of merriment.

Then, one foot after the other,
I dressed for the world.
No one, I assured,
No one would notice
My fall from grace.

Copyright   Joann Nelander

Visit One Stop Poetry– Where Poets, Writers and Artists Meet. to lift your spirits, to brighten your mood or just to get away from the ho-hum humdrum.

One Shot Wednesday – Week 30

Time again for One Shot Wednesday.  Here’s my one shot:

Let Me

Let me be the Star that guides.
Let me be the Voice crying in the wilderness.
Let me be the Brother that leads a brother.
Let me be the Mother bidding
“Do whatever He tells you.”

Let me be tears upon Your feet,
Let me be anointing oil.
Let me be a cloak that hides your nakedness.
Let me be the prayer of the Blind Bartimaeus:
“Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.”

Let me pray with You in the garden
Let me draw a spiritual sword by Your Side.
Let me help you carry Your Cross.
Let me weep with You for the Fallen and the Lost,
Lamenting, “.. you would not be gathered.”

Let me feel with Mother Mary
Let me cry out like the Magdalen.
Let me, like the Centurion, recognize You in Your Dying.
Let me sit beside the Angel at Your Tomb.
“He has risen, He is not here”

By Joann Nelander

Visit One Stop Poetry- Where Poets, Writers and Artists Meet. to lift your spirits, to brighten your mood or just to get away from the ho-hum humdrum.

One Shot Wednesday – Week 28

Week #28 One Shot Wednesday

When the Twain Shall Meet

There is a delicacy of old
With which men speak to one another.
Though, approaching from the farthest ends,
Never meeting in the middle,
Yet, do they honor one another,
In their humanity.

They offer the gift of presence,
Gifting to the other
An open ear
That wills to hear.

To do the Good
For the sake of Right,
To forge the best of thought
For presentation at the gate
Is the beginning of a holy end.

Though all men be wrong
In varying degrees,
There is something right
In putting down one’s arms
To meet as warring friends,
In hope and trust
That they serve a higher call,
When men do speak of peace.

Who is honored by this respect,
If not the Maker of all Men,
Who alone can change
Hearts of stone to flesh,
Making them like unto His own.

By Joann Nelander

Visit One Stop Poetry- Where Poets, Writers and Artists Meet. to lift your spirits, to brighten your mood or just to get away from the ho-hum humdrum.