Dec. 3, 2017

The Hand

That instrument of touch
Where tells our anxious moods,
Where strength and weakness meet,
Where grasp our spiritual food,

O hand of my delight,
To touch your trembling palm,
To bless your feverish brow,
To offer sacred balm.

Lead me, O Breath of God,
To open thou my hand,
To touch the sick and sore,
To point the promised land.

I bow beneath your Wing,
Its shade I find secure,
As long as life shall last,
As long as love endures.

Al Carden

Latest comments

28.05 | 19:44

Awesome to see you again with Andre and Mary ann

28.05 | 12:17

It is the greatest human privilege, to be loved and to love. Thanks for these thoughts.

15.05 | 15:19

Yes. Beings not Doings.

15.05 | 15:15

So true. The value of kindness to others is invaluable.

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