Dry Bones by Madeline Wilkins

Hidden in the depth of the valley
Weak and layered with dust,
Too fragile to hold a breath.

A mere skeletal frame of what I
Could have
Should have
Would have been.

You clean them off with a
Gentle exhale.
Blow away the grime of the tomb
And I inhale the blazing scent -
Lungful after lungful of Life.

I wonder if you are weary
Of the eternal resuscitation;
The perpetual cycle of
Grave to grace.

But how could a beaming new
Father ever tire of fresh life?

Morning after morning,
Mercy after mercy,
He beholds each of us;
Miracle-made and Heaven-breathed
In delight.

Madeline is a former counselor turned mother turned writer. She lives with her husband and their three children in SC. When she's not wrangling kids, she enjoys writing about their days navigating the joys and difficulties of parenting a child with Autism. Her most recent project was a children's book Gus' Special Magical Most Favorite Hat inspired by her son, Gus. You can find lots of updates on instagram at @madelinekwilkins as well as on her website www.mkwpoems.com.