Thanksgiving Kiss

O, Mary, thank you for Your Child.
See my empty arms.
See my open heart.
Place your Treasure
In my embrace.

He smiles at me,
As I push aside  His swaddling,
To gaze in awe
On the Babe of my redemption.

Mystery of mysteries,
Mercy of God,
You’ve come to me.
You’ve come for me
I dare a kiss on Your sweet brow,
My Emmanuel.

© 2011 Joann Nelander

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Be Ready for the Infant King

Who will come to the stable
On Christmas Day?
And what will they take away?

Wise men, steadfast and earnest, came,
Instead of palace music,
They heard the donkey brae.
A lowly sound and sight,
Yet their wonder un-allayed.

Many come rejoicing,
To behold the Newborn King,
Bowing low,
While angels sing.

Christ’s comes for all
But not all come.
Some come, behold, then fall away,
Being rootless, they merrily go their way.

Father God prepared a voice
To announce His Only Word,
A messenger, born before, to go before.
Another child, spared Ramah’s plight
To live and pierce Sin’s long night
John, O, John, still cries, “Repent!”

Prepare if you would follow.
At Jerusalem’s Gate,
Many cried, “Messiah,”
Who would soon cry, “Crucify.”

Whose will will you do,
When the music fades in life?
Pride prides itself on ‘my way,’
Confounds with will and strife.

Without a ready, willing heart,
Nothing changes Christmas Day.
Corrupt hearts go on corrupting,
All the while the kingly Infant cries,
As throughout His life,
“I am the Way.”

Whose heart will live in yours
As angelic songs fade away.
Will you simply leave the stable
To follow your own way?

Come, O come, rejoicing!
Praying for a change.
Receive the Babe within your Heart.
The humble He teaches His Way.

©2011 Joann Nelander

Infant King Benign

O Infant King benign
I offer You the face
Of Mother Mary
As she gazed upon You
That very first time
Beholding long
Your holy countenance.

Her eyes, drinking in her Babe,
Her King, her Priest,
Her Son Divine,
Wept tears of joy,
And wonder,
In silent adoration,
Pondering comprehension.
She smiled in inward exultation.

You will never forget
Her look of love
As she gazed upon
Him, Who no earthly eye
Had seen,
A treasure for the world,
In her care,
To be wrapped
In lowly swaddling clothes
You, O Christ Child,
In Your humanity divine.

Babe of All Perfection

Luke2_16_Nativity

O happy Babe.
Babe of All Perfection,
Your little heart, so full of love,
Your face radiant,
Reflected in Your mother’s gaze.
Your soul, ablaze!
Hearth of longing and compassion,
The Family of Nations comes to adore You

©2011 Joann Nelander

Thanksgiving Kiss

O, Mary, thank you for Your Child.

See my empty arms.

See my open heart.

Place your Treasure

In my embrace.

 

He smiles at me,

As I push aside  His swaddling,

To gaze in awe

On the Babe of my redemption.

Mystery of mysteries,

 

Mercy of God,

You’ve come to me.

You’ve come for me

I dare a kiss on Your sweet brow,

My Emmanuel.

 

© 2011 Joann Nelander

Be Ready for the Infant King

Who will come to the stable
On Christmas Day?
And what will they take away?

Wise men, steadfast and earnest, came,
Instead of palace music,
They heard the donkey brae.
A lowly sound and sight,
Yet their wonder un-allayed.

Many come rejoicing,
To behold the Newborn King,
Bowing low,
While angels sing.

Christ’s comes for all
But not all come.
Some come, behold, then fall away,
Being rootless, they merrily go their way.

Father God prepared a voice
To announce His Only Word,
A messenger, born before, to go before.
Another child, spared Ramah’s plight
To live and pierce Sin’s long night
John, O, John, still cries, “Repent!”

Prepare if you would follow.
At Jerusalem’s Gate,
Many cried, “Messiah,”
Who would soon cry, “Crucify.”

Whose will will you do,
When the music fades in life?
Pride prides itself on ‘my way,’
Confounds with will and strife.

Without a ready, willing heart,
Nothing changes Christmas Day.
Corrupt hearts go on corrupting,
All the while the kingly Infant cries,
As throughout His life,
“I am the Way.”

Whose heart will live in yours
As angelic songs fade away.
Will you simply leave the stable
To follow your own way?

Come, O come, rejoicing!
Praying for a change.
Receive the Babe within your Heart.
The humble He teaches His Way.

©2011 Joann Nelander

With Mary Waiting

With Mary waiting,
As the pregnant moments pass,
I share her secret with the world.
The Hour comes at last.

A Child is to be born.
A virginal womb has received
Eternal Life for all
By act of God conceived.

Her "Fiat" brought Him
To this consecrated chamber,
This pure and holy abode.
God’s Love called Him forth
To save a sinful world in woe.

In Mary, peace abides.
Outside the world complains,
‘They register, number, own us.’
‘We’ll be taxed yet again.’

Joseph, a Son of David,
Knows he must obey,
So with Mary astride and by his side,
They travel and they pray.

Now, I walk beside them
To Bethlehem’s gate,
Where doors are barred
And a full Inn fate.

A cave receives the weary, hallowed guests.
Lowly beasts share their place of rest,
And warm the air against a night
Grown cold as  human hearts.

The Holy Couple, in humble, gracious joy,
Embrace the Father’ s Will.
O, Time of Waiting, the Virgin is with Child!
I wait on tip toe with Creation
To see the Babe so mild.

O, Infant, cradled in a womb so pure,
Soon, You will know her arms of love,
And, too soon, know
The chilling thoughts of men.

God speaks but One Word,
And celestial sphere ‘s
Take up the song
To sing the whole Night long.

Angelic voices summon shepherds
and "Men of Good Will" as well.
The poor of heart receive a Savior
Who’ll ravage the gates of Hell.

Hidden Mystery of Ages,
One day an ass will bear
You, Son of David,
As Jerusalem proclaims Your fame.

For now a donkey
Carries the Salvation
Prophets long proclaimed,
Emmanuel, HaShem, the Name.

©2011 Joann Nelander

Holy Card Heaven

Holy Card Heaven.

Prayer to the Powerful Babe

O, Jesus, True God,
Beginning human life
In the womb of Mary,
I come to You in Your first moments,
O powerful Babe.

Mother Mary’s "Fiat"
Brought the Father’s Will to Earth,
Wrapped in the stuff of Man,
Purity’s Flesh emerging as cells divide.

I come to You, God-Man,
In Your holy beginning,
Awaiting, with all creation,
The formation of Your Sacred Heart
In Time.

O, Happy Fruition,
O, Incarnate Son,
In Mary’s virginal womb,
Bless with inner healing
The whole of my life.
Bring to my concupiscence
Conformity to the Father’s Will.

I am the least in my Father’s house,
But by my spiritual visitation,
My willing presence,
In the nascent Being of the Christ,
One, so small and mean as me,
Can find a home
As the Heart of Jesus
Is formed and fired.

O, powerful Babe,
O, pure and holy Fetus,
I trust in You
From Your beginning
As Prophet, Priest and King,
To bring me,
And all creation,
To a happy end.
Amen

Copyright Joann Nelander 2011

All rights reserved

Who Is the Poorest of the Poor

Who is the poorest of the Poor?
Is it not the one deprived of womb?
Is it not the one gone unnamed?
Given a frame
But denied rightful claim,
Stripped bare of place,
No space to grow,
Deprived of a proper birth?
Is it not the one evicted,
Before drawing it’s first breath,
Whose beating heart is silenced,
With the sanction of the Court!?
With privacy,
Lest the whole world hear it’s cry?

Though a mother forget her child,
The Father of all fathers
Will not, no never, forget.
He has a place,
And a name,
For all the poor,
For the poorest
Of the poor,
Called "Beloved"
And "Poor No More".

©2012 Joann Nelander

All rights reserved

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