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© Carl Martin Johnson, All rights reserved

I could grasp the evening star
Before the sun sets
By Carl Martin Johnson
I could grasp the evening star
And pull it from the sky,
But wonders are best left where they are,
Lest their magic fade and die.
By Carl Martin Johnson

Fade soft into the night.
There is nothing there to fear.
The dark soon grows to light,
And the true world will appear.

Behind Death’s shroud lies Truth.
All secrets are revealed.
In the soul’s eternal youth,
Every sadness will be healed.

Greet the Angel when he calls.
Remember he’s your friend.
When this life’s curtain falls,
It’s the beginning, not the end.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Will you sit and talk to me?
Will you be my brother?
This moment’s all we have you see.
There may not be another.

Look up at that passing cloud.
It soon will fade and die.
Yet in this moment it floats proud.
It dominates the sky.

The song the robin just now sings
Will not be heard again.
The church bell that this matin rings
Cannot repeat the toll that’s been.

So, lest this moment be our last,
Come, let us become friends.
This brief time will soon have passed.
Let’s talk before it ends.


By Carl Martin Johnson

I went to see the dancing girl,
To watch her prance and sway.
There was such grace in her sensuous whirl
I could not tear myself away.

She danced until the stars came out.
Her steps brought forth the moon.
As she leaped there was no doubt
She would open Heaven soon.

Then she passed and spun around.
Her hand reached out to me.
I knew at once my heart had found
Love for eternity.


By Carl Martin Johnson

I loved you once and well.
You filled my arms and heart.
Now soft rings my death knell.
My next life soon will start.

I look past many years
To the tender passion shared.
Despite the pain and tears,
No happiness has compared.

I watch the warm sun set,
Wondering if you see it too.
Even in death l’ll not forget
The one love that was true.


By Carl Martin Johnson

On a lone desert highway,
Night wind in my hair,
Speeding due west to LA
To see what was there.

Top down on my Camaro,
Boone’s Farm in my hand.
Life at home was too narrow,
Not what I had planned.

I’d fought hard in the war.
I knew death and pain.
Now just me and my car
In living’s fast lane.

I wouldn’t brake ‘til the ocean.
California was calling.
City of Angels in motion
With bright lights all sprawling.

When I got there I’d stay,
But I didn’t stay long.
It was a stop on the way,
Just one verse of my song.


By Carl Martin Johnson

I just felt a soul slide past.
I wonder where it’s going.
Souls, of course, move very fast,
So none of it was showing.

Could be it was new released,
Hurrying off to Paradise,
Or a sinner fresh deceased
Running from his sinning’s price.

Either way I wish it well.
Soon I’ll follow too.
And on my way to Heaven or Hell
I may bump into you.


By Carl Martin Johnson

The universe is watching me,
And I return its stare.
I don’t know what I want to see,
But I pray that something’s there.


By Carl Martin Johnson

In the dawn light I sit gazing,
Looking out on wondrous things.
Into a world amazing,
I fly forth on my mind’s wings.

It is my own creation,
Yet it creates me too.
Divine hallucination
To help my soul renew.


By Carl Martin Johnson

The waltz is almost over now.
The orchestra is leaving.
The dancers grow weary anyhow,
So there’s no cause for grieving.

All will go their separate ways,
Fading soft into the dark.
None who whirls here ever stays.
The dancing dims life’s spark.

Perhaps there’ll be another ball,
With fancy dress required.
The dancers will attend them all
Until their souls are tired.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Hear the holy murmur,
All God’s angels chanting,
A whispered breeze, but firmer,
Heaven’s wine decanting.

Attend to what it’s saying.
Listen only with your soul.
It is all the cosmos praying,
God’s great world to extol.

Open to the wonder.
Then join with all creation,
In the spell that you fall under,
And lift up in celebration.


By Carl Martin Johnson

A comet streaked across the sky,
Leaving a trail of wonder.
A thing of beauty to the eye
Of all us mortals under.

What angel cast the ball of fire?
At what was the round blaze thrown?
Will it explode or just expire?
Will its ending be unknown?

Could be it’s a guiding flare
Moving with an angel’s speed.
In the darkness way up there
It’s all the light he’ll need.


By Carl Martin Johnson

A raindrop hit my face just then.
It felt much like a tear.
I wonder where the drop has been
Before it landed here.

It must have fallen from a cloud,
Though I see none in the sky.
I admit my head was bowed,
So it could have passed me by.

Funny, since my love has gone,
Rain falls most every day.
Guess I’ll wipe it off and carry on.
There’s just no other way.


By Carl Martin Johnson

There is a fire inside me.
I feel it rage and burn.
Its heat has terrified me,
Lest my body become an urn.

My soul provides the fuel.
Each day more is consumed.
It blazes beautiful yet cruel.
I must quench it or I’m doomed.

Should it illuminate the Word,
Only that will douse the flame.
It can be spoken but not heard.
There’s no fire that it can’t tame.


By Carl Martin Johnson

With hope, He made my kind,
Correcting what was flawed.
You, Lucifer, should have known His mind.
Only Man can become God.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Before the setting of the sun,
I will have my life complete.
All my battles will be won.
For this day won’t repeat.

Before the fall of night,
My mark will have been made.
No more chance to do things right.
It’s the end of the parade.

What time is left I will spend well.
When it’s over I’ll be through.
No more story left to tell.
I’ll have done all that I can do.


By Carl Martin Johnson

The breath that I’ve just taken
Could well be my last.
I could sleep and not awaken.
No future, only past.

So Life’s sweet wind I’ll taste.
I’ll enjoy its vivid flavor.
No breeze will go to waste.
Every zephyr I will savor.

And when I breathe out,
Let it be in thanks for living.
I’ll exhale a prayer devout
For the blessings Life is giving.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Each day he played his violin
Beneath the same oak tree.
That’s where the blind boy’d always been
For all the town to see.

He could not hear the coins that rang
Into his offering bowl.
He could not talk, but his bowed strings sang,
Reaching deep into your soul.

His music flowed all through the air.
Some said with an angel chorus.
Passersby would forget their care
When that sweet boy played for us.

One day the gifted boy was gone.
As all must, he had died.
No more serenading in the dawn.
All the townsfolk cried.

Yet some days when the wind is right,
We can hear his tunes float past.
Then we know his soul has gained its sight,
And he can hear at last.


By Carl Martin Johnson

When I was young the fireflies came
To illuminate the night,
A thousand tiny bits of flame
To comfort boyish fright.

I loved the cheer their gold flares bring.
I smiled in their soothing glow.
I sensed there were secret things
They wanted me to know.

Even now, when life is hard,
When I am feeling glum.
I sit in my back yard,
And the fireflies, they will come.


By Carl Martin Johnson

The whisper traveled to my ear
From whereabouts unknown.
It was a truth I longed to hear
Come down from Wisdom’s Throne.

The words were not the human kind.
My brain could not translate them.
Nor did they strike meaning in mortal mind,
But only in souls that await them.

I am part of a Great Whole,
The whispering voices told me.
And I have an immortal soul
In a universe made to hold me.


By Carl Martin Johnson

My soul has a great thirst,
For what I do not know.
I feel that I am cursed
With insatiable need to know.

My spirit’s lips are burst and split,
Parched from wisdom needing.
This dryness will not quit,
Nor is the aridness receding.

Of Life’s secrets let me swallow.
Only that will my thirst slake,
And fill that which is hollow,
Lest my being dry and break.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Cornstalks grow on Mollie’s farm,
Where once she ran and played.
Now the sweet girl’s come to harm
In an act by evil made.

No more a smile to those she passed,
No happy shouts of cheer.
The morning run was Mollie’s last.
We’ll miss you, Mollie dear.

Beneath the tall green rows of corn,
Golden tassels hanging down,
Too soon after our Mollie was born
She lies dead on the furrowed ground.


By Carl Martin Johnson

If you wake and I am gone,
Look for me in the dawn.
You will see me there as I go on my way.

Life’s call to me was strong.
I’ve stayed with you too long.
Love couldn’t hold me here another day.

One day I might return,
When my heart begins to yearn.
If my wandering’s done then maybe I will stay.


By Carl Martin Johnson

The sun was not yet borning
When he walked into town.
It was the time between night and morning
When the earth wears the new day’s crown.

The single stoplight blinked bright red
On the two-lane country road.
In all else the hamlet was dead,
As if silence a debt owed.

Many long years past
The folks had cheered him on his way.
They knew his fame would last.
He had talent that would stay.

For a time he rode success.
The people saw him in the news.
But he lived life to excess
With the women and the booze.

Soon his looks were gone,
His face ragged and bereft.
The wild ride he’d been on
Was a rocket with no fuel left.

Now he roamed from place to place,
Working odd jobs, getting drunk.
But no one remembered his face.
No one knew how low he’d sunk.

He was old now, soon to die.
That would be all right.
This was his last goodbye.
He’d hurry through before daylight.

He’d try to thumb a ride.
If not, he’d just keep walking.
Life had left some pride,
And it was easier than talking.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Dawn fell softly on his face
And woke him from his sleep.
He did not want to leave this place,
But he had promises to keep.

He’d slept sound for many years,
His dreaming gone unbroken.
Through dreams of laughter and of tears,
Not once had he been woken.

But now the light had raised him,
And what he saw was good.
At first the sight amazed him.
Then he understood.


By Carl Martin Johnson

I sold my soul in Hollywood,
A bargain at the price.
I’d buy it back now if I could,
But you don’t get that chance twice.


By Carl Martin Johnson

Behind the black cloud hides the sun.
It is stronger than the dark.
Have faith your battle will be won.
Search the darkness for a spark.

Until then use your soul to see.
Its bright eyes need no light.
They gaze through night to eternity,
And bless all in their sight.

Soon the cloud will move away.
Fair wind will send it past.
No soul shadow will ever stay.
Nor heart sorrow last.



By Carl Martin Johnson

Where do all the bright stars hide
When the sun blues up the sky.
As a young boy I thought they died.
That made my child’s eyes cry.

But now I think they go to sleep,
Tucked into a heavenly bed,
While flocks of angels safe watch keep,
As they rest for the night ahead.

And in their sleep the tired stars dream
Of mankind far below,
All awaiting a starlight’s beam
To make their sad hearts glow.


Fade soft into the night
The breath taken
The blind boy
The dancing girl
To a love long past
A whisper
On the road
A soul slid past
Mollie's Farm
The Universe Is Watching Me
Look for me in the dawn
Mind wings
Passing through
End of th dance
Holy murmur
Comet streaking
I sold my soul in Hollywood
Behind the cloud
Fire inside
Where the stars hide
Only man
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