24/09/2025
These hands are not marble stone,
yet bear a strength not theirs alone.
They lift the chalice, break the bread,
and trace the cross o’er hearts once dead.
They cradle infants, bless the meek,
wipe silent tears the weary speaks,
They raise in prayer at break of day,
and fold at night when words give way.
Scarred by labor, worn with years,
they carry burdens, hopes and fears.
But more than touch, more than release -
they hold the mercy of the Prince of Peace.
-Anonymous
