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The Secret's Out
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


† † † The Secret's Out

Godís secret, of the cross is out

To which Satan was blind

It brings an end to deadly doubt

And freedom to mankind

The devil thought, Jesus had failed

His death, was plain to see

Until The Lamb of God unveiled

The secret of the tree

The Father turned an unread page

Salvation to disclose

The devil saw; and seethed with rage

As Christ from death arose

To hell The King of kings went down

To set the captive free

From Satanís head Christ took the crown

And from his hand deathís key

With victory well and truly won

No more would darkness reign

The devil knew now what heíd done

Had all been done in vain

With Christ the curse of God had died

The curse, through Adamís shame

Through blameless blood God glorified

His Son Christ Jesusí name

The power of the blood remains

For those who seek release

Lifting oneís burden, healing oneís pains

And causing endless peace

Godís secret of the treeís no more

Godís Truth has come to stay

Come to The Lord come to The Door

And come to life today.....


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Submitted: Sunday, November 25, 2012

Last Updated: Sunday, November 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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