It’s a Dry Bones World

This week’s journal was inspired by the message of Ezekiel 37. I don’t usually use poetry to capture my ideas so I hope that regular readers will still appreciate my sentiments.

It's a Dry Bones World
The valley floor is cluttered with them.
Millions of dry, decaying bones,
Scattered lifeless and still.
Remnants of dreams unfulfilled,
Promises broken,
Passions suppressed.
All dead and forever lost.

Tears blur my vision as I walk silently,
Carefully through the rubble.
There are no words to describe the pain
Of opportunities wasted,
Relationships abandoned,
Challenges unmet.
This testament to futility.

I raise my eyes to God
And cry with desperation,
Why am I in this place?
What can one voice do to change anything?

The answer shakes me to my core,
Mortal, speak my name and these bones will live.
Prophesy to the world.
For my joy reigns,
My love lives,
And hope remains.
Share this message with conviction and courage.

I gaze into the eyes
Of these who are dead, this dry bones world,
And I speak resurrection language.
Come, four winds,
Breathe fresh and new,
Let these bones live.
The silence echoes every syllable.

A deafening noise ensues
Permeating the valley like rattling thunder,
As bone meets bone.
Standing together as one,
Restored and renewed,
Like a multitude of silent sentries.
Each prepared to change the world.

The sight before me now makes sense
The vision’s meaning clear.
This is about my future.
My dreams fulfilled,
Promises kept,
Passions expressed.
If I am only willing to breathe and live.