Beyond Tears

I just want to rest here,
In a place beyond tears.
When You see me,
In my life’s blood,
You will not pass me by.

Shepherd,
That you are,
Lift me to Your shoulder.
Carry me
The rest of the way.

I consent to Your ministries,
Trust in Your mercies.
As Your strong arms
Enfold me.

I am comfort,
Through and through,
For I will to be
One with You,
And You have given me
My heart’s desire.

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Hope’s Longing

I find you in tears.
I find you in longing.
I find you covered in the news of the day,
Lying in the cold,
Under the blanket of the night,
Under heaven’s gaze.

Who wipes your tears?
Who comforts and consoles?
Who sees you in your many disguises,
Crying in the child,
Laughing with young,
Smiling down from Heaven?

Give me eyes to see through the tears.
Give me a heart to feel hope beyond sorrow.
Give me the shelter of your company.
Here in the Now,
I find You sweet within me
Promising Forever.

copyright 2015 Joann Nelander

LIFTED UP, I AM DRAWN

Lifted up,
You hang above the world.
Your outstretched arms
Measure the breath of Your Love.

How great the distance between us,
Yet, greater still,
Your unquenchable thirst for me.

I am a child, a lowly one,
Troubling you yet and always.
I tug at the hem of Your garment
While You tug at my heart.

Lord of my hopes,
Lord of my longing,
Lord of my sorrows,
Lord of my weeping,
Ruler of all Time and Space,
You draw me to an Eternity in Your Embrace.

©2014 Joann Nelander

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,
Becoming yet another ghost,
Withered as leaves,
Crumbled, and carried aloft
By winter winds,
Too soon scattered
By the breezes of Time.

Is it truly spent,
Dead and long forgotten,
Living but in memory?
May not reflection
Call it from the grave,
Uncover the gain
Hold it fast
To live again?

How has its many waters
Blessed thee and me,
As sacred signs?
Will it, as muse, retain a power
For its having been,
And then no more?

What saints and angels
Sent my way,
Colored its day?
In sorrow,
Who came to hold my hand?
In joy,
Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,
And laughter to tilt the scale of grief?
Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,
That fires of love be stoked
To warm and blaze anew?

Has my thanksgivings
Been recorded in the pyre,
Written in the embers now glowing
As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,
But let them not hurry
To a crypt without a wake.
Drink the happy wine of memory,
Sip, as the seasons turn.
Contemplate and savor
The seasons of your soul.

©2011  Joann Nelander

Lifted Up, I Am Drawn

Lifted up,

You hang above the world.

Your outstretched arms

Measure the breath of Your Love.

 

How great the distance between us,

Yet, greater still,

Your unquenchable thirst for me.

 

I am a child, a lowly one,

Troubling you yet and always.

I tug at the hem of Your garment

While You tug at my heart.

 

Lord of my hopes,

Lord of my longing,

Lord of my sorrows,

Lord of my weeping,

Ruler of all Time and Space,

You draw me to an Eternity in Your Embrace.

 

©2014 Joann Nelander

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,
Becoming yet another ghost,
Withered as leaves,
Crumbled, and carried aloft
By winter winds,
Too soon scattered
By the breezes of Time.

Is it truly spent,
Dead and long forgotten,
Living but in memory?
May not reflection
Call it from the grave,
Uncover the gain
Hold it fast
To live again?

How has its many waters
Blessed thee and me,
As sacred signs?
Will it, as muse, retain a power
For its having been,
And then no more?

What saints and angels
Sent my way,
Colored its day?
In sorrow,
Who came to hold my hand?
In joy,
Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,
And laughter to tilt the scale of grief?
Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,
That fires of love be stoked
To warm and blaze anew?

Has my thanksgivings
Been recorded in the pyre,
Written in the embers now glowing
As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,
But let them not hurry
To a crypt without a wake.
Drink the happy wine of memory,
Sip, as the seasons turn.
Contemplate and savor
The seasons of your soul.

©2011  Joann Nelander

Beyond Tears

I just want to rest here,
In a place beyond tears.
When You see me,
In my life’s blood,
You will not pass me by.

Shepherd,
That you are,
Lift me to Your shoulder.
Carry me
The rest of the way.

I consent to Your ministries,
Trust in Your mercies.
As Your strong arms
Enfold me.

I am comfort,
Through and through,
For I will to be
One with You,
And You have given me
My heart’s desire.

Remembering the Seasons of My Soul

Old year passes,

Becoming yet another ghost,

Withered as leaves,

Crumbled, and carried aloft

By winter winds,

Too soon scattered

By the breezes of Time?

 

Is it truly spent,

Dead and long forgotten,

Living but in memory?

May not reflection

Call it from the grave,

Uncover the gain

Hold it fast

To live again?

 

How has its many waters

Blessed thee and me,

As sacred signs?

Will it, as muse, retain a power

For its having been,

And then no more?

 

What saints and angels

Sent my way,

Colored its day?

In sorrow,

Who came to hold my hand?

In joy,

Who shared my hearth?

Were there hugs, and smiles,

And laughter to tilt the scale of grief.

 

Can kisses and embraces be resurrected,

That fires of love be stoked

To warm and blaze anew?

Has my thanksgivings

Been recorded in the pyre,

Written in the embers now glowing

As tiger eyes flashing from the ash.

 

Years come, doomed , too soon to go,

But let them not hurry

To a crypt without a wake.

Drink the happy wine of memory,

Sip, as the seasons turn.

Contemplate and savor

The seasons of your soul.    

 

©2011  Joann Nelander

Well of Sorrows

You behold my inner groaning.
You grieve within me.
Low pitched moaning
Stir my depths,
Awaiting  promised vindication.
No eye, but Yours,
Beholds the river of unspent tears,
Hidden from the world of Men.
Prayer without ceasing
Issues forth
For Your ears only.
Words without sound
Shape my inner being
Fashioning a future full of bliss.
Hope of hallowed blessing,
Worthy of a king,
Yet reserved for but a slave.
O hidden well of sorrow
Dare always hope.
Here comes in triumph and thanksgiving,
The dawn of Day Spring
And Morning Star.
Not yet,
But always present.
In Faith, believing.
The Time of the Bridegroom
Coming to claim His Bride,
Robed now in wedding garments,
Washed resplendent
By crystalline waters.
Purified eyes of soul’s desire,
Embrace the eternal Son as His Beloved.
Well of sorrow,
House of Clay,
Delight now appearing
Open unto Eternity
The door of unending Joy
Hearts beating now as One.
Thy Kingdom come.

© 2011  Joann Nelander

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