The Passion Poem by Drew Engman

What is this the season of?
More sweetly salted tears?
Mixed and mingled by a wind,
That blows with hopes and fears

Within my head, within my heart,
What do I feel or know?
My faith’s the first place I should start,
The last place that I go,

Yet I can tell, and touch, and taste,
And know that I am loved
By wife, by family, by friends,
But most of all … Jesus.

Now most of all I want to
Give back some of what He gave.
Tho’ I strain against the yoke
And make the worst of slaves.

(Intermission)

Every moment stretches, like the sea,
Forever, to the sky.
I am one grain of sand upon that shore.

Every day, another thing I love
Passes away, good-bye.
I still cry, like a man,
For one day more.

I must not be meant
To feel my way out of the night;
Tho’ I can’t see,
I can still sing my song.

Just when I think love’s spent,
And I have fought with all my might,
I fall into the
Loving arms of God.