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Birth of a Priest
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

     Birth of a Priest

A certain man would be a priest

He thought The Way was clear

Through school his knowledge much increased

Though God he failed to hear

 

From man and books, he’d seek God’s face

God’s Way, he sought to find

But void of Christ, His Light and grace

His eyes to truth were blind

 

But in God’s house was plain to see

Christ’s sheep have wondrous sight

The true report has set them free

To walk The Way of Light

 

He saw the difference as he preached

When to his knees he fell

Feeling the touch as Jesus reached

To save his soul from hell

 

There’s no one safe when on their own

No matter how we try

Without God’s blood, our hearts are stone

Without His grace, we die!

 

In truth the priest gave up his search

When once he’d sought to pray

When humbly kneeling down in church

Confessing all that day

 

In Christ, he’s used now ever since

Although at times at fault

As king and priest, this faithful prince

 God seasoned deep with salt

 

Through facts revealed at Heaven’s dawn

Through value of the tree

We too are like the priest reborn

Once Truth has set us free. ....

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Submitted: Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Last Updated: Wednesday, December 26, 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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