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Where Eyes Open Wide.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Where Eyes Open Wide.....

No longer does the grave breed fear

When death unveils its sting

For those who’s conscience grace made clear

Who now to Jesus cling

 

No more is death; the great unknown

To those where light has dawned

To those transformed to living stone

To those The Truth has warned

 

In Christ beyond our widest dream

Where peace and love abide

We’ll rise to drink from life’s sweet stream

Beyond the great divide

 

Till death lays wide its dreadful gates

Before that far off shore

What future for each soul awaits?

Through hell or Heaven’s door

 

Final judgement will soon begin

Exalting those with grace

But those whom death caught hold with sin

Will find excuse no place

 

Then oh; the pain the sad surprise

“Too late” will masses cry

When Truth reveals demonic lies

And spirits fail to die

 

Best ask today could this be you?

Could this my God be me?

Before that day what should we do?

To be from hell set free 

                                     

We must have faith in Jesus Christ

God’s Promise as our Guide

Bathe in the blood love sacrificed

Before the last divide.....


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Submitted: Friday, July 26, 2013

Last Updated: Saturday, July 27, 2013

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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