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The Call to Arms (1
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


The Call to Arms 91)

 

We’re Spirit filled we do our bit

We live a life of prayer

We’re saved by grace with lamps well lit

Whilst others die out there

 

We’re on our knees night and day

We fast on Zion hill

That God would send us on our way

To do His precious will

 

To travel here and far off lands

To spread the true report

Not snugly sit in Jesus’ hands

With deeds that count to nought

 

“Go north!” God said, “Go to the south

Go east and to the west

I’ll put my word into your mouth

But you; must do your best”

 

We’ve heard the call we see the need

We know of Jesus’ plan

We know His word in us can feed

And help our fellow man

 

So let the will of God be done

In you my friend and me

But yet not “I” but Christ His Son

Will bring such things to be

 

For on our own, we’re incomplete

Sat here within a pew

So let us rise from off our seat

Then see what God can do

 

Man’s power was lost though mortal sin

Through disobedient shame

But now in Christ, and He within

We’ll glorify His name…..


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Submitted: Saturday, November 10, 2012

Last Updated: Saturday, November 10, 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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