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By Peter O
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"I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life, no one comes to the Father
except through me." John 14:6


Jesus, on the cross,
Clad in a royal mantle of blood,
Is salvation's dawn.

From these wounds
Surfaced a dew of healing graces
That spread over all
Who do not hide behind "ego's" claims.

So, don't let me rub temptation's itch
To forget Jesus, lose my hold on Him, no,
For this rub will bleed, then scab, and
I chose not to live under a scab.
No, no, no

Fasten me to Jesus,
Still my soul as He stilled the waters, and
Through grace unhorn my soul,
Swing open it's gates
To home His saving words. And,

Root my soul's feet
In His shaping soil --
One without weeds,
One without graves. And,

Journey by the Shepherd's Energy
Of Jesus.


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Submitted: Sunday, August 24, 2014

Last Updated: Sunday, August 24, 2014

About the Poet
I am 79 years of age. For the past nine years I have been retired, after forty years, from the field of alcoholism and drug abuse in New York City. I am married and we have two grown sons and two grand-sons. My life changed through a grace-experience in 1967. Writing Christian prayers is a particular interest of mine. This came about by a growing awareness of the spiritual in recovery from addictions. I choose, intellectually and emotionally, to believe the Triune God of the Sared Scriptures as my Healer.

Other Poems by Peter O

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