Dry bones dancing…

Skull in the desert

(reflection on Ezekiel 37)

  • A dry and desert stretch of sandy, rock stretched out
  • Before my eyes. So barren. Dead. And filled to over-
  • Flow with white skeletal frames dried in the sun.
  • Bleached to deathly white with endless sunrise, sunset
  • By the blist’ring heat. A bone-filled valley.
  • Standing
  • There I wondered what such men were these? A tribe?
  • A nation? Surely to my eyes they seemed a people
  • Once (now dead). Laid low in dust. As will I too
  • Someday become.
  • The Spirit then said “Live.” What, live?
  • I stumbled to my knees in shock. What comes alive –
  • Alive of bones so dry and brittle in a desert
  • Dale?
  • And then the sound of endless clicks and clacks
  • As bones each mated each with socket, joint and limb
  • Each skeleton made whole of frame, soon overlaid
  • With sinew, muscle, skin & hair. Reclining on the
  • Barren sand with yet no life. A vale of corpses!
  • Said the Spirit “Breathe”.
  • And Breath of Life infused
  • The mounds of lifeless bodies with new life & breath.
  • They lived! A mighty army rose! With might and main
  • They lived & breathed & praised! Worshiped! Danced & sang!
  • Shouted out the Name of Yahweh! “Only God
  • Who makes alive a valley of dry bones!” they shout.
  • “Glorify thy Name O God!”
  • Does this not speak
  • Into our hearts that God alone revives the dead
  • And breathes in them new life?
  • Come Spirit. Breath of God.
  • And breathe revival to our land. Our church. Our songs
  • And barren ministries that fill a valley with these
  • Dryly strewn bones of brittle works.


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