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Walking on Clouds
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Walking on Clouds

Is someone there does someone care?

Is Jesus God's Son real?

If I should kneel in earnest prayer

Would God know how I feel?

 

How strange I felt tucked warm' in bed

Though nought was plain in sight

Was it a cloud beneath my head?

On which I spent the night?

 

But then I thought how could my feet

I'd walked up in the sky?

Until I saw it's just a sheet

The kind in stores we buy

 

A dream! I felt to understand

My mind was set at rest

But who was that who held my hand?

And why do I feel blessed?

 

It was; no dream, I saw it all

Jesus was really there

God came to me, He'd heard my call

We talked about my prayer

 

See this vision to you I give

Hold fast God's hand and feel

Go tell the world I truly live

The One who died is real

 

Declare these things you see my child

The facts and Truth you hear

Until the last is reconciled

Who learn my name to fear

 

These things to you I share in love

The Triune God is true

Though if or not I walked above?

I leave that up to you!.....Michael P. Johnson


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Submitted: Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Last Updated: Thursday, November 9, 2017

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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