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


How does one spread, how does one tell?

Salvation’s awesome news

Truth, of Heaven, the facts of hell

To those who Christ refuse

 

More challenging than ere before

This world’s in disarray

How can we guide through true life’s door?

To sheep deceived astray

 

Churches are closing more and more

This fact we must confess

How can we shut hell’s gaping jaw?

And plot a new address

 

Heaven is where we want to be

Man needs to understand

Safe and sound, completely free

Within God’s Promised Land

 

The world looks on in laughter

Seeing Christ church as fools

Still blind to the hereafter

Breaking God’s sacred rules

 

We need to practice what we preach

All Jesus had to say

Walk in God’s word, live what we teach

Twenty-four hours each day

 

Sundays are fine for sinners

Still fresh from off the street

But those who would be winners

Should rise as Christ’s elite

 

For this; the church should dig and build

A well of liquid light

To feed God’s flock till gospel filled

They have the strength to fight…..


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Submitted: Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Last Updated: Friday, September 28, 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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