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


Expectations are formed at birth

In mothers of mankind

Hoping, willing, throughout the earth

Life’s blessings will unwind

 

Still ignorant of life on high

Of Christ, salvation’s Way

God in Heaven, beyond the sky

Of life’s eternal day

 

Where life, in truth, in Christ’s to find

Life’s ornate ring and gown

Penitent sinners, no more- blind

Can gain life’s precious crown

 

Still, dreams of man, are so diverse

Most seldom to realise

Till death slinks forth, with solemn hearse

Opening wide their eyes

 

Seeing the foolish things they’ve done

Through troubles, toil and pains

While on earth rejecting God’s Son

Like wealth, no hope remains  

 

For grace, life, when leaving the grave

Great, will be their concern

Hearing nothing; their souls can save

From endless fire to burn

 

Like shadows, dancing in the gloom

Loneliness, seeking love

Realising their pending doom

Their eyes will look above

 

In deepest hell where no one dies

Where Heaven hears no prayer

Eternity will hear their cries

But no one gives a care…..


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Submitted: Thursday, August 16, 2018

Last Updated: Thursday, August 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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