Dry bones cry out,
The dying church, revive.
Awaken from your coma.
Holy Spirit come,
Great Physician mend
the quarrels, the disease ridden, the dying.
We plead with you
make us well again
that we might sing it is well with my soul,
or at the very least,
when our emotions match not our desire,
give us strength to praise.
You are not deaf.
Open our ears to hear the still small voice
and in it, the peace to reconcile all divisions.
*the title could use some work.