Now Hear the Word of the Lord

The left hand of heaven
     crushing, collapsing, abusing
fell from the sky like a weight upon me,
the right hand of heaven -
     folding, caressing, blessing
lifted me up from the ground,
and carried me away.

Setting down once more
into the dirt and the dust,
this son of Adam’s clay
touched ground in a silent valley
darker than the mere shadow of death,
a valley of bones, picked clean
by crimson capped vultures,
bleached and desiccated.

He pushed and I walked
among the bones, up and down.
So many bones littered along the valley;
empty socketed skulls rolled
silent eyeless stares followed as I passed.

“Son of dirt, child of dust,” came his voice,
“what can you expect?
Can these bones live?

Any hope that might have lived
sank into the gloom and gloam
of day’s dread end.
The bones were completely dry.

What could I say? How could I respond
except with sighs,
     except with sighs…
“You know Lord. You…”