The hands that spread the stars in space
Then gave them each a name
That placed the moon upon its path
And set the sun ablaze.
These are the hands that held a child
The hands that took the nails
That created the earth’s beauty
And strange creatures that amaze.
The clouds that seem spun with gossamer
The flowers of myriad hue
Are testimonies to the mind of God
And the hands that made us too.
Your hands have steadied old and young
The frail and insecure
Lifted up the broken soul,
Found food to give the poor
They counted out our every hair,
They measured up our days
Your hands are beautiful dear Lord
With the scars from cruel nails.
©2009 Wyn Barratt.