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My Father's Child
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

My Father's Child

 

You’re everything and even more

More than a friend supreme

You’re Lord you’re King You’re Heaven’s Door

You’re Life’s eternal Stream

 

How could I think or feel this way?

How could I dream so wild?

How marvellous is every day

Since being reconciled

 

I’m Yours, I’m Yours I’m truly Yours

And You Father, are mine

I’m now Your child my God because

Of Jesus blood divine

 

For me; You suffered all that pain

You chose for me to die

That I’d be saved, be born again

To rise to live on high

 

Lord, help me pass the test of time

Equip me for the fight

Steer me from the path of crime

And lead me through the night  

  

I long my God to see Your face

Standing at Jesus’ side

Blessing the day through love and grace

Such hope was magnified

 

That day You freed my soul of sin

You gave Your Living Bread

Healing my soul to come within

You raised me from the dead

 

Alive; my God, I’m so alive

As never was before

Through faith I’ll live and always thrive

Beyond my Father’s door.....

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Submitted: Thursday, June 16, 2016

Last Updated: Thursday, June 16, 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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