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Life's Crimson Flow
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Blood is flowing blood is pumping

Rotating night and day

When it stops, see doctors jumping

See people start to pray


How can we live still plagued with doubt?

Believing foolish lies

Seeing life ebb when blood runs out

Where people drop like flies


Though blood transfusion lives may save

May close a while death’s door

Yet all one day will find the grave

When blood flows round no more


But through the Blood of Jesus Christ

His death in dreadful pain

His selfless life sacrificed

Can lead to birth again


No negative, no blood type ‘O’

No ‘A’ perhaps to live

Christ’s positive’s eternal flow

Suits everyone He’ll give


It comes with love comes always free

Through outstretched arms divine

Received in faith with guarantee

Grafted in Heaven’s Vine


Though life’s shadows would veil life’s glow

Heads shake and lips will pout

God’s wealth within His crimson flow

Will bring an end to doubt


In every drop there’s strength to fight

Power to beat the foe

Drop for drop of sheer delight

In Jesus’ wondrous flow…..

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Submitted: Friday, November 13, 2015

Last Updated: Saturday, November 14, 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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