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When the Fire Begins
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


When the Fire Begins


When things grow quiet, sink down deep

Uncertainties arise

When sinful flesh begins to weep

Heaven hears our cries


As guilt reveals its sombre face

When Light dawns in our soul

Christ’s offer of eternal grace

Breaks forth to make us whole


Feeling life’s water surge and flow

Feeling God’s Flame ignite

We feel our heart begin to glow

Restoring failing sight


With soul made quick, spirit aflame

With heart alive and well

We rise completely free of shame

And Satan’s road to hell


We rise The Son of God to praise

We stand with spirit high

Walking with Christ throughout our days

With whom one day we’ll fly


We’ll join the cloud up in the air

We’ll cast off lingering fears

Leaving behind this world of care

And all its aches and tears


We could have lost and fallen short

Our souls could still be dead

If when we heard The Christ’s report

If from God’s house we’d fled


But thank The Lord for strength to stand

Enabling to stay

For Jesus’ love His grace His hand

Reaching to sheep astray.....

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Submitted: Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Last Updated: Tuesday, April 21, 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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