One for today’s readings; no tune.

 No spirit hand is writing on the wall,
 no words of flame are burning in my sight.
 No disembodied midnight voices call
 to tell me not to turn to left or right.
  
 Instead, the human voices of my world
 are calling me each moment of the day,
 while human hands are pointing to you, Lord,
 and human footsteps forge for me the way.
  
 Some hands are withered, some are worked and worn,
 or smooth or wrinkled, light or deeply dark.
 They point me to your own hands, ripped and torn,
 and show me every everlasting mark.
  
 Then take your wounded hands and touch my eyes
 to see in all these hands the spirit's flame.
 Teach me to hear your voice in every guise,
 in every call to work in your great name.
  
 And may I, when they call, say, “Here I am.”
Here are my hands: oh, use them as you will!
 And may my voice teach others of the Lamb
 who died and rose, who lives and saves us still.