Desert Watch

Image courtesy of Wikimedia with no endorsement of my poetry

In the darkness
Between the changing of the watches
My dry bones cry with thirst.
Scattered on the dusty winds
Yet bound together by chords of chaos,
They quiver and quake
While waiting for springs of living water.
They wait with anticipation
For newness of life,
Newness of thought,
Newness of soul.
My bones wait for your word.
They beg to receive it
For your word never returns void.
If you speak the word,
Your word will heal me,
Heal my broken heart,
Heal my senseless mind,
Heal my brittle, dry bones.
Speak the word;
Release your freedom;
Send your power.

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