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To Self I Die.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

      To Self I Die.....

I pray my God a robe of white

I pray I do no wrong

That I may serve, walk in The Light

Able to sing Your song

 

I know no flesh can graduate

No self can rise on high

I pray all self I’d learn to hate

And to myself I’d die

 

I choose instead to live Your way

Following Christ Your Son

I choose that self would have no say

To see the battle won

 

You see the fool You see the proud

The greedy seeking gold

You see who’s heart would please the crowd

Yet to Your Son stay cold

 

If self my God would see demise

If self You’d close life’s door

With Christ my God this child would rise

And live forever more

 

I know that I’m forgiven Lord

Through grace I’ve found Your love

Yet still I’d never flee the sword

If self would rise above

 

Its difficult to live like this

I see how much I fail

To so remain, I’d surely miss

The chance to flee this jail

 

So help me die to self my King

Stretch forth Your mighty hand

That I may rise on eagle’s wing

And dwell Your Promised Land.....

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Submitted: Sunday, August 25, 2013

Last Updated: Sunday, August 25, 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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