I was in high school when I wrote this short poem. I wanted to write about the Lenten season. There's always something about Lent that strikes at me—the hymn music is the best of any time of the church year (Christmas being second), the reality of the Gospel (the literal Gospel, thank you Dr. Rossow), and the joyful expectation of the resurrection of the dead. Not Far Behind is a poetic expression of that...from a high schooler's perspective.

He walks, heavy laden,
With a tree.
	The nails
Not far behind.

Stumble, He does, to
Receive assistance.
	The hammer
Not far behind.

The climb, the Skull, He comes
With two others.
	The thorns
Not far behind.

He screams in pain; the nails
Have pierced His skin.
	His death
Not far behind.

The drop, His body falls,
The tree is set.
	The spear
Not far behind.

He takes His last breath,
Then is pierced.
	Easter
Not far behind.