Hands
Hands pinioned with pain
Holding us all
With ragged tenderness
Fingers now motionless
That once touched so many
With the gentle Power
Of Healing Love
Searing pain and paralysis
What grief
Is this
Held here
For all to see
And none to notice?
An agony of labour
Still
Answering a call
Blood mingles
With the grain of wood
Stain of human sin
Reconciled for all
Time
In those timeless
Hands
Wounded for Love’s
Greater purpose.
From Love Returned Linda Crowhurst
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