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Where Hearts Belong.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

     Where Hearts Belong.....

What lasting joy Salvation brings

Each time when God we meet

Serving beneath Christ’s righteous wings

Beside His holy feet

 

Where hearts in love oft joyful cry

Where souls weep painless tears

Where self in peace can truly die

Devoid of worldly fears

 

The Fire of God we feel and share

Consuming rags of shame

And all the while the cross is there

Recalling why He came

 

This is the daily Bread we seek

The Word that feeds the soul

Still nourishing the heart grown weak

Still making quick and whole

 

Longing to feel The Master’s touch

To breathe His righteous Breath

We’ll sacrifice however much

To save from certain death

 

But God sees those who Christ refuse

He sees who come in scorn

Who still reject Salvation’s news

Who’ll fail to see life’s dawn

 

Man has the choice where hearts belong

Where souls one day will end

We have the choice to sing the song

That life or death depend

 

Blessing or curse the choice is now

We all should understand

Depending to whom our knees will bow

The Word in truth will stand.....

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Submitted: Sunday, September 1, 2013

Last Updated: Sunday, September 1, 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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