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Let Barrenness Die
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

Let Barrenness Die

 

Shadows may cloud a shallow mind

Where darkness has a throne

Whilst ignorance holds souls still blind

Where hearts are cold as stone

 

Barren becomes one’s dormant might

Fruitless grow our days

When void of Truth deprived of light

And lost to Heaven’s ways

 

We need to change the way we think

To evil bar the door

Of righteousness to eat and drink

Repenting filth before

 

With virtue plough our fallow land

Plant seed in soil made good

Till growing strong we understand

To live the way we should

 

It’s then with God we’d make amends

Examining inside

Seeking for grace that all transcends

That truth be magnified

 

That selfless love will come to reign

Where souls will find release

Living no longer lives in vain

But walk in love and peace

 

But first one’s pride must fall and die

Idolatry must end

So truth reveals the devil’s lie

And Satan’s knee will bend

 

The arm of God will do these things

Where love and faith unite

Where humble souls as if on wings

Prepare for Heaven’s flight..... 


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Submitted: Friday, April 15, 2016

Last Updated: Friday, April 15, 2016

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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