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Touch the Heart That Bled.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

  Touch The Heart That Bled

We owe our Father all and more

Christ Jesus; lives of love

Yet many close and lock their door

And that to life above

 

Though God will harvest golden wheat

Sweet fruit from living trees

The heart and soul of man’s elite

Yet chaff, is all He sees

 

Choosing to live by Satan’s rules

We play the devil’s game

And so we die like blinded fools

Still clad in robes of shame

 

Although hell’s jaws are open wide

Man’s lust grows more and more

Our nakedness we flaunt with pride

Living as Satan’s whore

 

Yet if the world could only see

Remorse could sound alarm

The Truth would set her off spring free

And take The Bridegroom’s arm

 

If from her past the world would part

If truth she’d seek above

She’d seek to touch her children’s heart

To serve through deeds of love

 

Remorse would sound Salvations horn

Life’s wine would flow in streams

Transforming lives to be reborn

Beyond their wildest dreams

 

To God it’s clear what tears mean

That truthful hearts have shed

Could be when yours by God are seen

They’ll touch the heart that bled.....

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Submitted: Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Last Updated: Wednesday, August 7, 2013

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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