And When, 'Where I Fall Poem by James McLain

If passion from dust is grace.
and when, 'where I fall
how deep warm the snow
may it, by your hand bring you comfort
help they whom now rest in the light
of dawn as it covers me
and if through be they deep
we all cross mighty rivers
turning too dance does each
coming away from the bang
turning back from the rift
follow the burning each new sun
may it guide me there back
each bitter sweet tear
there may they hide me open, without
from the shadow of whom has doubt
where it beats when you hold me
and resting I wait, 'when you turn.