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The Wind of Change
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


ďI bless The Wind that brought me peace
The Wind of truth and change
My Lord You came and never cease-
My life to rearrange

No sleep would find me through the night
Wild storms would plague my day
My future there was far from bright
But then You came my way

You breathed! My God, then all was still
The faithful storms swift passed
I gave to You my selfish will
Such calm was mine at last

Your Wind of change, may not be seen
But yet I feel the glow
Purging Fire washing me clean
Just like the virgin snow

Lord! Take from me all foolish pride
Stir up Your Wind anew
Consume remaining filth inside
Please make me more like You

As I look down lifeís beaten track
Lifeís dreadful storms recall
No power on earth can take me back
Your love wonít let me fall

Upon The Wind through Christ Iíll soar
Without a doubt to why
Through faith; Iíll enter Heavenís door
To reign with Christ on high

I cannot fail, on bended knee
When love; has changed my ways
When through Your Wind, Iím cleansed and free
To praise You endless daysĒÖÖ

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Submitted: Sunday, July 17, 2011

Last Updated: Sunday, July 17, 2011

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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