The souls of the just are in the hand of God.

Wisdom 3:1

You hold the caverns of the earth;
the heights are rooted in your palm.
Your fingers shaped the rocks and dirt;
they cup the seas in storm or calm.

Within your hands and by their touch
come forth all things that are or were
or shall be in the years to come:
You hold all time and every world.

You carve our ways into your skin,
our tattooed names thereon enrolled,
and life and death and grace and sin
your boundless, generous hands enfold.

If we could take the wings of dawn
or into darkness turn and sink,
still we would nestle in your palm
and never reach your fingers' brink.

Then when we cross the final pale
and leave behind all living lands,
within your grasp we travel still:
The roads of death are in your hands.

Where caverns plunge and mountain stands,
where rivers run and waves reroar,
all of our lives are in your hands
that carry us forevermore.