My trust I give the unseen Hand

The One that beckons from where I stand

A prayer we offer in words we mention

The Hand responds sweet in precision

Moments or years, His timing unknown

Our confidence grounded, we are not alone. 

Compared our plans they are not similiar

His ways so high feel unfamiliar

He moves in motions more pristine

Kingdom advancing through eyes unseen

It moves, it weaves, it orchestrates

No task to big to undertake

His plan unravels in blissful perfection

His ways are good there, no, exception

We stand strong upon the words He’s said

Following the path of which He led. 

My trust I give the unseen Hand.

The One that beckons from where I stand.

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