They must have been famished,
that bunch of bones shrugged together,
flesh and sinew awaiting breath.
How long had they been fasting in the dust?
They were surely parched;
their skin must have sagged,
their steps dragged – how many
calories does resurrection burn, anyway?
Did God, after telling them to rise,
open the skies and flood the valley floor,
its red dust running through the gullies,
pooling before their cupped hands?
Were their fingerprints the same
as before, or created anew?
Preparing for Pentecost: a reflection on Ezekiels’ vision in the valley of dry bones (Ezekiel 37:1-14)