Hands That Spin

It was a beautiful night with sleep ever so deep, quietness invading, peace and rest overtaking.

The minutes merged into hours as darkness covered, heart slowed, mind giving way to Mercy’s healing.

Oh but risen again, there comes the bright sun, Light of the Day calling, DayStar guiding.

The rhythm of life includes the night and the day, sunshine and rain, joy and pain.

Too much of one and not enough of the other leads to unbalance, hopes dashed, dreams burnt.

The Hands that spin this globe, that hold my world together, are precious indeed, scarred and wise, all-powerful and all-knowing.


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