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


The Vine

God has a garden where everything grows

White desert orchid cactus black rose

Vegetables fruit trees stout and fine

Bushes and shrubs The Gardener’s Vine

 

God’s the Gardener, Jesus the Vine

We are the branches producing wine

Only by grace such wonders are done

Power’s received through God’s Lamb and Son

 

Bide in the Vine Heaven’s true link

Virtues acquired when Christ’s blood we drink

Life grows eternal here and now

To those who now to Jesus bow

 

Embrace the Light accept life’s flow

Drink of The Truth righteous to grow

Consort the Stream of life divine

Receive love’s strength through Heaven’s Vine

 

Beware God’s Flame dry boughs devour

Others wax stout pulsating power

Harvesters toil, with song rejoice

Gathering fruit of The Gardener’s choice

 

Yet still for more, The Gardener yearns

Eager with sickle and sheers He turns

Fruitless dry limbs careful He’ll prune

Purging parasites, seeking to ruin

 

Freeing of worm, of choking weed

Arid branches Fire He’ll feed

With greatest care He’ll tend the weak

Who from His hand nourishment seek

 

The Gardener waits till all is right

Just like a thief waiting night

Swiftly coming well satisfied

To bring His harvest safe inside…


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Submitted: Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Last Updated: Wednesday, October 31, 2012

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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