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Where
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

Where

 

Where is the child of bitter tears?

The aged left alone

Those burdened souls of many years

With hearts like broken stone

 

Where are the lost who cannot see?

The ragged child still blind

The prisoner who seeks to flee

From shadows of the mind

 

The weary soul troubled in thought?

The erring sheep astray

The masses doubting love’s report

Facing the judgement day

 

Where is the fruit from Heaven’s Seed?

The branches of The Vine

The captive soul who would be freed

The harvest that is mine

 

Where were your thoughts when times you cried?

Where are your deeds of love?

The Seed that should have multiplied

Upon the road above

 

Where is the faithful bride of Christ?

Her unity her care

Offerings she’d have sacrificed

If love were truly there

 

Love’s promised cloud will soon appear

The earth will cry in awe

Masses will run will hide in fear

Once Christ has shut the door

 

Receive The Facts heed Heaven’s Word

Receive as purest gold

Practice now The Truth you’ve heard

All Christ my Son has told.....


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Submitted: Friday, July 10, 2015

Last Updated: Friday, July 10, 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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