His Hands

The world, here I come. Mysteriously I see the light, What a birth! Strike the rock under the sun, Knock the tortoise on the shell, Little by little I dance to the tunes of the world. Under a divine providence, albeit physically aided. Stages in life I pursue and conquer, There came a time of mute, But I fall to stand. Courageous I became with these; “The down fall of a man is not the end of his life”. A mysterious start I had again. Sporadically I ponder in awe, How comes this mysterious being? They see me, they see me, Different from my real self. Sun and moon I toil, My heights I must attend. How weak I am, Strength filled comes from Him. He has his finger prints on my life, Individually He prints on our lives. How great He made man? What a mysterious man, He is?