The Valley of Dry Bones

Happy Sunday, everyone! I've been on a mythology and ancient history kick recently, and this is the result. This poem was inspired by the biblical Vision of the Valley of Dry Bones in Ezekiel. Happy reading!


The Valley of Dry Bones

An endless valley, beat down with heat. 

Bleached bones litter the ground, 

Abandoned by their god. 

Some cracked, others worn down by the passage of time. 

Unyielding in its march forward. 

Damned for eternity. 

Lying in wait. 

For what? 


Scorching sand pinches my toes as I journey across the barren land. 

In my veins, lies the answer. 

Blood blessed by an elder monk. 

Meant to heal, soothe, and restore. 

I must make it to the other side. 


The wild wind howls, breathing life back into these worn cadavers. 

Hollow rattling fills the air. 

Ankles, legs, knees, and necks binding together once more. 

Inky voids stare into my flesh and blood. 

Face to face with what their god has taken from them. 

And these bones are hungry.


XOXO, Michaela

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