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Faith's Return.....
Viewed Last 24 Hours: 1 time

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


How foolish was this child back then

How wicked was my path

How light began to fail me when

I thought about Your wrath

 

Alone, alone dreadful alone

So much my torment grew

How weak I thought this flesh and bone

Miserable without You

 

You saw my heart, how much I’d strayed

How easily deep I fell

Still somehow Lord to You I prayed

To save my soul from hell

 

I’ve known You as my Lord and King

I knew why Jesus died

So to my God, I’d pray and sing

That faith be magnified

 

True as ever You stood me by

In faith, I raised my hand

I felt Your love then knew that I

Could reach The Promised Land

 

As hope once more began to grow

New strength I felt return

Right there and then I loved You so

As fire began to burn

 

I felt my shame dwindling there

My heart began to race

Grateful I mouthed a silent prayer

Feeling Your warm embrace

 

I felt Your hand caress my soul

How wonderful the peace

I knew my inner man was whole

And life would never cease…….


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Submitted: Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Last Updated: Friday, February 16, 2018

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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