The hand
unseen weaves quietly,
The fabric
of my life.
Each fiber
hand-crafted,
Colored and
formed by the Master.
The hand
unseen soothes gently,
The turmoil
that surrounds.
Touching my
fevered brow,
With a
cooling holy calm.
The hand
unseen pushes firmly,
As I
fearfully take a step,
On a path
unknown to me,
But plotted
out by Him.
The hand
unseen works swiftly,
Laying out
the next tile,
Of the winding
pathway,
His
omniscience, my faith combining.
The hand
unseen covers securely,
When the
winds of life howl,
When the piercing
cold or heat,
Threatens my
spirit’s survival.
In astonishment
I stand before,
In gratitude
I bow to,
In relief I
lean against,
The loving
unseen hand.
Well that made my day! Thank you for starting my morning with your beautiful poem. I'm holding his hand and I'll never let go.
ReplyDeleteThank you for last night. Wonderful people. Wonderful cause. Amazing God who won't let go of me or you either.
Blessings, my friend.