The Coach Draws Near Poem by Michael P. Johnson

Make no mistake play not as fools
Before the pending fall
Trying to sit between two stools
Yet hearing Jesus’ call

There’re sheep to feed and seed to sow
On mountain hill and vale
Beware yet stormy winds may blow
And you dear child could fail

Its time that wisdom wore a crown
Seeking our Father’s face
Pull all our self made idols down
And pray for saving grace

The bible tells crystal clear
To them He’s given sight
The bridal coach will soon appear
For those enrobed with Light

The living One will call His own
Beyond their wildest dream
He’ll change each remnant yet of stone
To holiness supreme

He’ll take us His nail pierced hand
Within those arms of love
Immediately we’ll understand
What beauty waits above

A moment only in His Flame
A twinkling of an eye
Made perfect in His wondrous name
For endless life on high

Casting aside our blood drenched sword
With all the saints before
Hand in hand with Christ The Lord
We’ll enter Heaven’s door