The House and The Hands

"Look at these walls, so strong and tall,"

Her voice as steady and smooth as sirens call.

"Those beams that hold the roof in place,

And the stones that meet rough earthy face.

Our homes, our dreams, all built with care.

By creaters and masters, genuise everywhere.

But God, the Master, wide and grand,

Made all the beauty in the world with only one hand.

You see a building, clear cut and true.

But even you knew an architect drew.

A canvas, without a brush in sight,

Was designed with purpose, planned just right.

The Builder's work, He won’t let decay,

His craft of beauty as it was and will remain."

Above his head, the filament bends,

It wriggles, dances, but never ends.

A glowing line of a golden flame,

Avoids his touch, but stays the same,

Awaiting cracks that fate might never send.