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Death
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

Death

 

This life; may reveal much danger

When opening the door

While death is a perfect stranger

Until he stands before

 

Should faith remain to death remote?

Has hope one day to end?

Should death be welcomed in Life’s Boat?

As if he were a friend

 

For death’s the foe in light disguise

Beneath a stealthy shroud

But dawning; Truth will open eyes

Revealing darkest cloud

 

We need to rise to take account

We need to change our will

Fill up one’s cup from Heaven’s fount

And drink of Truth our fill

 

We need to drink of Liquid Light

As wine drink Jesus’ Blood

Of wisdom drink both day and night

And live The Way we should

 

Although one day he’s bound to call

Although he’ll knock our doors

We’re not to fear death at all

Not even if he roars

 

With death we all may have a date

With love or filled with strife

Though when he comes he’s just the gate

That leads to endless life

 

Eternal life with God or hell

In pain or wondrous bliss

How sad for most when time will tell

Beyond death’s ice cold kiss.....

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Submitted: Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Last Updated: Thursday, December 18, 2014

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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