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Melt Me Mold Me
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

Melt Me Mold Me

 

“Wandering stumbling void of peace

A fugitive from sleep

I thought of death at life’s release

Beyond the final leap

 

A church was sought The Book was read

The Truth was plain to see

My soul must eat of Heaven’s bread

To set one’s spirit free

 

A filthy dreadful wretch am I

A drifter drenched in blame

Salvation God I’ll seek on high

Till fire consumes my shame

 

Till righteousness becomes my gown

Till on my hand’s Your ring

Till on my head You place life’s crown

And You’re my Lord are King

 

Like Esther raise me as a bride 

A queen in purest white

Allow me rise at Jesus’ side

A pleasure in Your sight

 

Allow me serve at Jesus’ feet

Let doubt my soul decline

Let joy in me be made complete

Let Heaven’s love be mine

 

Let Jesus’ presence flood my soul

His Truth my heart ignite

Before I reach my unseen goal

Festoon my life with Light

 

Equip me for the work outside

Take hold my hand in Yours

Upon The Wind Lord let us ride

Beyond The Father’s doors”..... 


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Submitted: Monday, July 11, 2016

Last Updated: Monday, February 6, 2017

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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