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



In truth! We are just what we eat

And so seems nature’s plan

From mother milk, we turn to meat

To nurture mortal man


But man is more than flesh and bone

We’re soul and spirit too

Which no one sees but God alone?

Until we’re born anew


From earthly fare, one’s fat and sleek

But what when spirits feed?

What do they want what do they seek?

To fill and meet the need


One’s spirit needs what Jesus said            Mt.4:4

Though first it may sound odd

Man cannot live alone from bread

He needs to feed on God


While day and night the body dies

Though inside, something’s strange

Like grubs turn into butterflies

So too a man can change


Made pregnant; through God’s Holy Dove

Inside with soul aglow

We thrive on grace on Heavens’ love

And through God’s Word we grow


In death, we reach the pupa stage

The sheep of Christ can see

Until man’s spirit comes of age

We’re never truly free


Set free with eagles now to fly

Set free through selfless love

Set free to seek God’s higher sky

To rise and live above…..

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Submitted: Friday, November 16, 2012

Last Updated: Friday, November 16, 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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