Tares (1) Poem by Michael P. Johnson

They seek them here they seek them there
They seek them far and wide
They seek in Christ to find a tare
Where none could ever hide

The inquisition’s come and gone
That sought to kill and burn
Relentless yet the search goes on
Will no one ever learn?

Did Christ not say that tares should stand?
Should grow amidst the wheat?
Till harvesters throughout the land
Would burn them at His feet?

Yet ruthless man will hunt and search
In every land they cry
Till open warfare’s in the church
Whereby God’s children die

Like ferrets some would seek them out
They prey both night and day
Till tender plants begin to doubt
Then fall or drift away

Carelessly lost of Heaven’s share
Forlorn from Jesus’ hand
Believing too! To be a tare
Failing to understand

They walk the earth as living dead
No place for them to go
Their blood is on a brother’s head
And not some evil foe

How can we say this one’s a tare?
Man’s eyes are less than dim
The least with whom God’s meal we share
Could well belong to Him…PTO…