Ezekiel 37:1-14 It's like trying to stay upright, scorched and breathless, in the blast of some sneezing rot-toothed dragon. This guided tour, God, is tough going. As vistas go, it's in questionable taste--hills bare-ribbed and drought-dried to the bone; Satan plays Lego with Rwandan skeletons, chews over the remains of hope in Darfur and a thousand other slums: such pornography of desolation-- O God, can these bones live? how have we been brought to this? We wait on you. Do not press REWIND, returning things to the good old days that never were. Plant something new in us, reassemble the strewn backbones of our resolve, breathe prophecy into us so that blade by blade, tuft by tuft we may animate these Lenten slopes with living green of Easter hopes."
Ian Sowton; Dry-Bone Valley from The Stink of Experience
