Whose Hands Are These?

Whose hands are these
That reach into a secret place?
Whose hands are these
That brush across my sleeping face
Like quiet waves on silent shores.
Whose hands are these?
These hands are yours.

Whose name is called
To find my soul in need of care?
Whose name is called
To answer when that need is there?
A name that sings, whose music soars.
Whose name is called?
That name is yours.

When I need peace,
A quiet that belongs to me,
To be released from on a loud and angry sea
I think of you.
Thinking of you quiets me
As only you can do for me.

Whose eyes are these
Seeing into this place I live?
Whose eyes are these
Who show me what I’ve yet to give,
That see beyond unopened doors?
Whose eyes are these?
These eyes are yours.

Where do I go when
Not a door is opened wide?
What can I know
When questions asked are unreplied?
I know of one.
One is all I need to confide
To fill that place inside of me.

Whose hands are these
That touch me when my soul is bare?
Whose hands are these
That offer all they’ve got to share,
To show the way and stay the course?
Whose hands are these?
These hands are yours.

Whose hands are these hands?
These hands are yours.

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