Walking Through the Valley of Dry Bones

I amar prestar aen... (The world is changed)
han mathon ne nen...(I feel it in the water)
han mathon ne chae...(I feel it in the Earth)
a han noston ned 'wilith. (I smell it in the air)
Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it.

For the past few weeks there has been a conversation swirling across blog borders that has left me speechless, discombobulated and oddly comforted...all at the same time. A contemplation of the inner workings of humanity and how the unspoken truths of our societal dance governs the way history has been unfolding lately.

It began, for me, with a stroll down Yon bonny road where the journey led to an encounter with Alex. Oh Alex, how you have haunted me so. Like a shadow that always trails my steps when the warmth of the sun can be felt upon my face, lurking, biding your time when the night darkness falls and your power can be spread.

The puzzle of these musings can only be unlocked by stepping so far back that headlines and movie trailers are mere glimmers in the eyes of paradigm.

We are playing the role of ruah. The dry bones in the vast field that spreads before Ezekiel are revealing their secrets.

I prophesied as I had been told, and even as I was prophesying I heard a noise; it was a rattling as the bones came together, bone joining bone.

I saw the sinews and the flesh come upon them, and the skin cover them, but there was no spirit in them.

Then he said to me: Prophesy to the spirit, prophesy, son of man, and say to the spirit: Thus says the Lord GOD: From the four winds come, O spirit, and breathe into these slain that they may come to life.

As I watch the old systems die away in the world, especially within my own country, I can't help but recall the words I scribbled yesterday as the sun rose on a sleepless night:

So you see, there is much to ponder in the hours when the sky changes from the blackness of night to the pale light of day. The soul resists rest when it is forced to endure the earthquakes of the soul by realizing that the visage standing before it in the mirror is broken and in need of repair, flawed and socially responsible for the ills of other human life. Hope springs eternal only in knowing that these questions and struggles exist in the travesses of my life understanding. I can only imagine what a different world I would see and experience if those in power would do the same.

That makes a great starting point for a prayer...

Care to join us on the stroll?