Monday, October 12, 2009

I TOUCHED YOUR HANDS

I touched your little hands today
So soft with new-born skin
God took the very best He had
So you would live to honor Him.

I touched your busy hands today
So carefree through those early years
And when you fell and scraped your knees
I picked you up and wiped your tears.

I touched your youthful hands today
I was so proud to see you grow
In wisdom and in knowledge too
So Christ through you the world could know.

I touched your calloused hands today
So hard with work and family play
Yet often through the course of life
I saw you pause to kneel and pray.

I touched your aging hands today
The sunset years have scared your brow.
Still I can see your course through life
Has won the victory here and now.

I touched His nail-scared hands today
As I walked down the streets of gold.
He called me from His royal throne
"Come in, my child, and welcome Home!"
--B. Pent

3 comments:

Lynnae said...

Oh, papa...You are the best poet in the world. You need to publish these. I miss you so much and wish you could have gone on the hike to Indian Heaven with me too!!!
I love you...
In Christ, Lynnae

Anonymous said...

Beautifully done as always! I think we mutually admire each other's artistic tenancies, yes? :) Thanks so much for the comment - it will inspire more posts when I'm back on the computer more. <3

K.R. Pent said...

Beautiful poem, Dad!