Hands

Hands, hands, beautiful hands

What a vital role they play.

If you have never noticed hands,

Look at some today.

Some people look at others eyes

To see the heart within.

I have always studied hands,

So picture if you can:

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Tender touching lover's hands

That bring the thrill of bliss.

Tiny dimpled baby hands,

So sweet to hold and kiss.
Clumsy, growing children's hands

That learn to work through play.

Mischievous, exploring hands

Challenge a mother's day.
Deft and agile artist's hands

Bring music from the spheres.

Skillful and creative hands

Build visions of the seers.
Willing, ready, helpful hands

Always doing good.

Rough and weathered outdoors hands

Tough from chopping wood.
Adroit, exacting surgeons' hands,

Steady, sure and quick.

Soothing, caring nurses' hands

Pledged to help the sick.
Wrinkled, loving, aged hands

With years of toil and care;

Mother dear and father's hands,

The dearest anywhere.

There are mean and slapping hands,

Or hands that push and shove.

Then there are happy clapping hands,

That praise the Lord above.
Precious nail scarred Jesus' hands,

Pinned to the cross for me;

These above all other hands,

I long some day to see!
Hands, hands, beautiful hands,

They all can say so much.

I long to see my Savior's hands

And feel His loving touch.
The future is uncertain,

The pathway hard to see.

So I put my life in Jesus' hands

For they will be leading me.