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The Fields Are White
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Oh Lord there’s yet so much to do

With all You’ve had to give

Still many are doomed without You

But fail to know You live


You’ve saved my soul from death and hell

Faithful I walk Your Way

Now others need to know as well

They need my God today!


To them; the devil’s lord and king

Thriving where darkness rules

To Satan’s tune they dance and sing

Believing Christians fools


They need my God the truth of Christ

That life on earth will end

Why Jesus life was sacrificed

Why knees to Him should bend


While Satan though will cheat and kill

They need to know they’re lost

To know they need to do Your will

However high the cost


There are no streets of gold about

No special place refined

Just houses plagued with fear and doubt

With those lost, deaf and blind


How can their eyes be made to see?

Their ears my God to hear

The Truth to learn to set them free

And take away their fear


Equip us now to join the fight

No longer can we hide

Your precious wheat stands tall and white

And must be brought inside.....

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Submitted: Thursday, October 25, 2012

Last Updated: Thursday, October 25, 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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