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Above The Mist.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Wandering deceived within hell’s mist

Since dawn, of fallen man

Fools believing God can’t exist

Have lived by Satan’s plan


That I by faith; may see Your face

Rise; with life’s royal elite

Grant, I receive Your saving grace

To sit at Jesus’ feet


Reach out Your hand Lord hold fast mine

Reign as my righteous King

That deep in me, life’s Lamp may shine

Allow me wear Your ring


That I may join Christ’s faithful bride

May reach life’s crucial goal

Your Holy Ghost with fire inside

Allow to cleanse my soul


From all the filthy deeds I’ve done

The evil thought and said

I now repent through Christ Your Son

Allow me living bread


My cup make full with Heaven’s wine

With oil anoint my heart

So true love’s arms with mine entwine

Grant me a brand new start


Lord, raise me through Your living word

This foolish child make wise

That I may live by what I’ve heard

Open Your servant’s eyes


Ignorant of the great unknown

Of that, no man has seen

Glad will this soul beneath Your throne

Live with my Saviour’s queen…..

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Submitted: Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Last Updated: Thursday, October 11, 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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