The Hand of God

It moves like the wind,
With a touch as gentle as breeze on the skin
Its strength is unkind
Pulling down weights too heavy for the eyes to see
Only thing we can’t imagine in our minds,
Parting seas, healing the sick
and not leaving lames behind.
It brings comfort better than the violin,
It’s the hand writing on a wall, royally designed.

Victor Oyedele