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Where Are You..... ?
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Where are; You Lord, why do You hide?

How much my God I pray

Knowing for me as man You died

Knowing we’ll meet one day


Yet show today Your nail-pierced hand

Allow me to see Your face

Allow me to see and understand

The wonders of Your grace


I’ve heard Your voice received Your call

Received Your Promised Dove

Why must I wait until I fall?

Until I rise above


Beyond the moon beyond the sun

Beyond the highest star

Wherever creation runs to

I know my Lord You are


But here Lord, here and now

Hear Your servant’s cry

Allow me to see, humbly to bow

Before my God on high


However much I long for You

Regardless how I try

I’ll always be unable to

Until the day I die


It’s not for lack of faith I pray

For worldly reason plead

For lust for fame for personal wealth

Or any selfish need


Although for self it may well be

For is this prayer not mine?

Though well I know, I wish to see

The love that is divine.....

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Submitted: Sunday, May 6, 2018

Last Updated: Sunday, May 6, 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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