Thorns And Weeds Poem by Michael P. Johnson

This world’s oft like a battle ground
With torment lies and fears
With wars and conflicts all around
Flooding our souls with tears

Many who live a life of strife
May think this statement odd
Who hate their neighbour in this life
Is also hating God

For hate is Satan’s constant tool
Against God’s realm above
We each become the devil’s fool
When others we cease to love

For love springs forth from Heaven’s streams
From out the heart of Christ
Rewarding beyond wildest dreams
When truly sacrificed

When truly shared with one in need
When love is given free
Within our souls we plant a seed
That grows into a tree

A tree with trunk with deep strong roots
With braches reaching wide
Bearing us sweet such wondrous fruits
Who bitter tears have cried

God sees the tears His children weep
He sees the seed we sow
Of which the harvest each will reap
When to our rest we go

Hatred but yields an empty tare
The fruit of wayward seed
Instead of Love’s eternal share
It reaps but thorn and weed