In Spirit & In Truth (1) Poem by Michael P. Johnson

“Some think in church to praise my name
Their hands are all but clean
The lambs they bring are sick and lame
As though I hadn’t seen

Can God not see a heart of bile
The evil in man’s head
You shake your brother’s hand and smile
Yet wish that he were dead

Bare faced you come to tell me lies
Pretending all is good
While even now your brother dies
Upon your hands his blood

You all are mine why can’t you see
I hate it when you fight
Did I not die upon the tree
That you may see the light

Yet still you rob me night and day
Of time, as well as gold
But you who love me should obey
And do as you are told

Although you have you fail to give
You do just as you think
Am I a fool to let you live
To help you when you sink

But yet my thoughts are not as yours
And neither are my ways
It’s best you keep my holy laws
So I’ll prolong your days

Not one of you can change a hair
From grey to brown or black
A simple thing, yet still you dare-
To bite your brothers back...