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Finding the Words
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

Finding the Words

 

I thank my Saviour every night

Throughout the light of day

I thank Him for my robe of white

When in my room I pray

 

With nought but Jesus on my mind

With hands outstretched above

I bless the day whilst lost and blind

He showered me with love

 

What hope have I my God to bless?

How could my soul begin?

How could this heart of mine express?

The gratitude within

 

I’ve nought to give, I can’t repay

There’s nothing I can do

Except my God that I obey

And pledge my life to You

 

You’ve given faith, amazing grace

Such love I can’t contain

Your Guiding Light for life’s long race

That I don’t run in vain

 

Why did You love this selfish child?

Wallowing in the dirt

Giving no thought when running wild

If someone else was hurt

 

You saw my thoughts my heart of stone

My mouth was like a grave

Living for me for me alone

And still you came to save

 

Saving me from the depths of hell

Eternity of pain

If I the world could only tell

If I could just explain.....


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Submitted: Sunday, November 8, 2015

Last Updated: Sunday, November 8, 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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