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Show the Way
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

Show the Way

 

There is a reason why I'm here

Why now I’m given sight

Why Jesus’ name I’ve learned to fear

And why I see The Light

 

You know my name, my heart and soul

My very thoughts You see

Yet still You saved and made me whole

Upon that dreadful tree

 

I've sought The Way I've heard Your voice

Desire to live as planned

I've made Your Son my life long choice

Towards The Promised Land

 

But Lord dear God this world’s still lost

Religion keeps her blind

While every wind of doctrine tossed

Just helps to cloud her mind

 

Through wayward sin her children stray

In shame they leave life's path

Through lust they choose the devil's way

Reaping eternal wrath

 

They know no peace, no truth no joy

No hint of selfless love

In Satan's hand is each a toy

Still held from life above

 

How can the lost draw close to You?

How can they seek Your face?

How may they drink of Heaven’s Dew?

And find the state of grace?

 

Lord please anoint more heads with oil

Set yet more servants free

Even to work the poorest soil

Through even such as me.....


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Submitted: Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Last Updated: Tuesday, January 27, 2015

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.


Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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