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The Paper Chase
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

The Paper Chase


Upon the street I found a trail

A path I knew quite well

Revealing how in Christ we fail

To save lost souls from hell


Crumpled paper on the ground

How plain was marked the course

I stooped to pick each piece I found

Until I found the source


Upon a bridge he’d made his stand

At first it seemed alone

But when I saw the tracts in hand

The Lord was on His throne


With tender smile upon his face

His aged head aloft

His words were steeped in Heaven’s grace

While man walked by and scoffed


“Please take one friend, I’d like to share

What God has done for me

Please take it home and read it there

It comes from Heaven free


“How must you feel” To him I said

“You stand here every day

You give out tracts like loaves of bread

And see them thrown away”


He said. “In Christ I can’t complain

In Him! I place my hope

It’s through His grace I’m born again

And so my friend I cope


So here I stand in Jesus’ name

Through such a tract I’m free

I too was lost and blind with shame

But now thank God I see”.....

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Submitted: Saturday, October 13, 2012

Last Updated: Saturday, October 13, 2012

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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