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His Hands
His strong hands are folded
Daily during prayer,
His bible beside him
With God's Spirit there.
Although storms often raged
Throughout his young life
He'd learned to put His faith
In Jesus Christ.
The gifts he was given
He willingly shared
Daily doing God's will
With talent so rare.
Could he ever have known
The souls he would reach
Without ever giving
A single speech.
For all over the world
His art would be sold
Replete with the Spirit
More precious than gold.
So I pause now to pray
And humbly give thanks
For the blessings God shares
Through this man's hands.
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© Viola Doncaster
January 18, 2002.
Written for Danny HahlbohmInspiration
For Poem
