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Eyes Were Opened
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Eyes Were Opened

 

Upon the ground I found a book

Inside was good as new

I took it home to have a look

Yet read through and through

 

That God should share His truth with me!

For me! He came and died

But rise again to set me free

These eyes just opened wide

 

I sought with God to speak on high

“Lord of Heaven and earth

To sin no more I can but try

If given second birth

 

In Christ my God I now believe

I know You heard me pray

Allow this wayward child receive

Your Light; to guide The Way

 

I pray Your Fire burn within

Comfort me when I’m down

Consume the filth the stench the sin

That robs me of life’s crown”

 

Right then I felt The Spirit’s touch

The joy my heart so thrilled

The grace the love I longed so much

Had all my needs fulfilled

 

Who is this God I’ve grown to love?

How awesome is His might?

That He should leave His throne above?

And drenched me deep in Light?

 

Who shows I’ve lived as Satan’s fool

Knows all I say and do

Yet sees me like a precious jewel

And gives me life anew…..

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Submitted: Thursday, November 15, 2012

Last Updated: Thursday, November 15, 2012

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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