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The Lord Our God Is One
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


The Lord Our God Is One


Of God it’s strange what people tell?

What countries yet believe?

What rituals they seek to sell

What rubbish minds conceive


God seems to change in each our sight

We’re led to understand

He’s black, yellow, red, brown or white

Depending on our land


Traditions often cloud the mind

And superstitions kill

Religions keep the lost so blind

To what The Lord God will


Not few believe God’s old and grey

Some giant in the sky

A being to whom we often pray

Until one day we die


There’re rituals with many rules

Superstition’s galore

How can we still behave like fools?

How can we close life’s Door?


The world must see The Truth and Light

Must hear and know first hand

Must learn to love instead of fight

And join Salvation’s band


She needs to know The Lamb who died

Jesus alive and well

Willing to save able to guide

Away from death and hell


United; through God’s Lamb on high

Through peace becoming one

Upon The Wind one day we’ll fly

Beyond the setting sun.....

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Submitted: Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Last Updated: Tuesday, April 14, 2015

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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