Dry Bones Poem by Mark Walters

Breathe in the new life, His army to raise
Breathe on the dry bones, rise up from the grave
Speak boldly that flesh and sinews may cover
Speak life that the lips, long dead may deliver

Words borne of God, seed a new generation
Words borne of self, cede our own desperation
This gift is a treasure more precious and true
The gift He would give to a dead world is you

Speak, for His harvest is calling to you
Speak out His words, they are faithful and true
Must the rocks cry out, is there no one to stand?
You are Ezekiel to this day of man