This canyon of bleached bones

The troubling breath of the
Blessed One broke into speech:
“Oh human one, hear my question and answer rightly.
Can these bones live? Can these bones live?”

Only You know. Only You know.

 “Then prophesy to these skeletal remains.”

Oh dry bones, hear the Word of the
One whose breath brings refreshment.
Flesh shall follow sinew; moist skin
will be stretched in supple layers.

Breathe, oh dry bones, breathe again!
The rumble of life shall overwhelm
           the rattle of death.
Graveyards shall open and spill
     their captives into fertile fields.

Breathe, oh dry bones, breathe again!
     Fill your lungs with Spirit’s Wind.
Sons and daughters, old ones and young,
     meadow and mountain, beast and bird,
the One present at creation shall be honored again.
On that day, no longer shall any govern
           by threat of the grave.

Spirit descend! Breathe on us, Breath of God.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Ezekiel 37 & Acts 2.