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Fingers Of Guilt
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Fingers Of Guilt

 

Eternity waits out yonder

Beyond both time and space

Still many a fool will squander

The choice of saving grace

 

Instead, we wander far and wide

We search for selfish gain

Seldom pausing to look inside

What causes death and pain?

 

We all have heard the quiet voice

The knocking at our door

But brush aside the greatest choice

That leads to evermore

 

Instead we point our fingers still

We utter Jesus’ name

As though it were The Father’s will

Revealing other’s shame

 

This one’s evil, that one is bad

That neighbour has a curse

How wretched though and truly sad

That we; perhaps are worse

 

Should not our neighbours see our Light?

Should not our lives have salt?

Not strutting round in robes of white

Revealing every fault

 

We need to love; to serve The Lord

His grace we need to share

Put now aside our pointing sword

And show the world we care

 

Let wisdom take us by the hand

Let knowledge change our mind

That through The Truth we’ll understand

What kept us bound and blind?.....

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Submitted: Sunday, January 10, 2016

Last Updated: Sunday, January 10, 2016

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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