Where lies your glory? 
What makes you shine? 
You and me
exploring youth and vigor, 
while we still got it.
We gotta make the most of it.
I say to you and you say to me. 
You and me.
The most exquisite of delights, 
eyes narrow open, wide shut. 
Wandering wanders, only, 
until we find the light
to lead us somewhere safe, 
you and me,
in this together.

By Emmanuel Johnson

There is a buddy in cinema
that gives a pass to other worlds 
which do not really exist.

They exist to bring to life things which do not exist. 
The feelings are the same but not the same;
Same but extended, intensified.
Everyday is laid bare on screen;
most times taunted, other times flaunted. 
The flaunting of the everyday,
coming to bear with life as we know it,
or maybe not.

I know a buddy
who situates the self,
and draws it nearer to the world. 
The world that it lives in.

By Emmanuel Johnson

Where are you?
I wish to get to you.
My friend from the days.
The days our paths were straight. 
Friend but not friends,
you but not you;
me but not me.
Sometimes I wonder,
I ought to care more?
Other times I ponder,
I have my life to live,
and so do you.
But the truth remains the truth, 
and a lie remains a lie,
and no matter what we do,
the day will speak for you and I.

By Emmanuel Johnson

In the haven of newness
I see, my source of hope.
This newness; it’s His; now mine.
My newness.
I am safe in this newness.
His newness; my newness.
Nothing matters in this newness. 
Everything is alright in this newness. 
I am sheltered; I am reborn.
I am overwhelmed.
I feel, but differently.
I live, I die, in this newness.

By Emmanuel Johnson

Here I am
on my walk through the everyday. 
Searching for you, but find you instead. 
Hovering over, pricking deeper.
I light my feet,
I am embraced by truth.
Now I see,
the blueprint for the days.
The days, your days; now my days. 
That thorn, in my flesh
now oil, for my head.
Now I see,
on my walk through the everyday,
I am not alone, I never was.

By Emmanuel Johnson

That time, we sailed 
across the breeze. 
That time, those times; 
I truly, was alive.
I remember, all the time; 
the days went well. 
Despite, most times,
the nature of those times.

Those times, I rewind; 
I truly, was alive.
In time, that time
in You, I found:
a piece, to fill the wells, 
which burn in me.
A piece; that peace
to keep me through all times.

All times, all times,
I remember, all the time: 
that time; that time 
indeed, was the right time. 
And now, this time,
I sit and revel under:
this time, all times
I truly, am alive.

By Emmanuel Johnson

Some day,
I shall learn of words that describe you: 
a painting of things within.
Things within.
Things within me;
which cannot be expressed.
Until that day;
one day; some day:
I feel your warm embrace,
as you, sit beside me;
loudly, whispering; silent,
words, which cannot be expressed.

By Emmanuel Johnson