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Autumn Blessings
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

Autumn Blessings

 

Though aged I’m blessed these autumn years

Though grey I’m flying high

Though full of joy I’m shedding tears

For those afraid to die

 

Anointed with eternal grace

Baptized with Heaven’s Fire

Through Christ I’ll see my Father’s face

And reap all I desire

 

Who would believe my wayward past?

The years in Satan’s bed

Before I met The First & Last

Who raised me from the dead

 

For Jesus has forgiven me

The Father’s vexed no more

God’s Spirit’s touch has made me see

The Way through Heaven’s Door

 

Though mine the nails that brought His death

The spear in His side

The blood of Jesus gave me breath

And turned the wayward tide

 

Now in those hands both safe and sound

Now at His feet I stand

Upward onward to higher ground

Towards The Promised Land

 

Oh yes I’m blessed yet so much more

I’m blessed beyond compare

I hope I’ve faith to rise for sure

God’s endless will to share

 

But until then I’ll stand here blessed

Serving as saints before

Walking towards my unseen rest

And love forever more…..

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Submitted: Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Last Updated: Monday, July 30, 2018

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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