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What Then.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Oh how we miss the now departed

Loved ones who’ve gone before

For those, I cry broken hearted

Who failed to find life’s Door

 

Mixed with sadness with joyful peace

For both to God, I pray

For no one’s soul will ever cease

Beyond the youngest day

 

But what of those who’ve failed to win?

God’s promised Guarantee!

Who lived their lives who died in sin

Who failed The Truth to see?

 

How we miss them now they’re gone

Yet pleased to understand

Because God sacrificed His Son

Some found The Promised Land

 

By faith in what the Bible told

In Christ, they’ve placed their trust

With these! I’ll walk streets of gold

When the world turns to dust

 

Still, people come and people go

Both sides of Heaven’s door

Yet God alone has eyes to know

What lies beyond life’s shore?

 

So each must live for tomorrow

Conscious of pending dates

Both happiness and sorrow

Eternity! Awaits

 

Consider well and contemplate

What yet remains to do?

For some, tomorrow comes too late

Today! Consider you..... 


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Submitted: Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Last Updated: Thursday, February 8, 2018

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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