Your Hand

Your Hand

When I think of your hand I stop and pause

I pause at your work of your hand

I see the colors with my eyes and the colors of the things not seen

I hear the work of your hand I hear the bird sing

I hear the cries of newborn babes

I hear the whispers of the married lovers..

When I think of your hand I see it in the mix of my life

From the cool air that blows in my face to sadness that I feel

When I let you down.

I want your hand in my life because it hold so much more than blessings

It is connected to you. You my king.