Only the Breath

Only the Breath

(“This is what the Lord God says to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you will live.” Ezekiel 37:5)

Nightmares grab me by the throat,
turning ghosts from the past into
terrors and muggings and threats,
waking with the sweats and pushing away
the hands around neck that once said
they were only trying to do the Lord’s bidding.

But only the breath of God-- haruach Elohim--can turn these
dusty bones to life. Where were you, people of the spirit,
when my breath was fading so fast? Where were you,
oh people of faith,
when the wind swept me to the desert alone?

There are no demons or idols or tiny gods with big hands;
but they did their best for you.
There is no haunting in this house; but only a mind
scarred by failure and padlocks that keep the
prosecutors penned in within it.

You asked me questions; I answered confidentially.
You asked me questions in front of the penitentiary.
You revealed my sources, cut out my entrails,
and laid them on the table for the holy gathering to divine.
I would not make music for over a year.

But only the grace of God—hesed Elohim­­—can upgrade
images to stars. Where were you, people of mercy and love,
when my body was wasting so swift. Where were you,
with my faith in decline,
when my body felt only the loneliness of dry and desert bones?

Still the Spirit speaks, no matter the voice of man,
Still Ruach utters, no matter human game plans,
Still the heart is whole, though divided time over time,
Still faith can live again, despite the remains of the day.

Every midnight I wake screaming, throwing pillows across the room,
will be another day of dealing (my pain is post-traumatic) with the tomb
that I thought was sealed
and yet enwombed
my embryo unharmed
until born (do we know its meaning) again
bone upon bone,
flesh upon flesh,
with only breath,
in Spirit known.