By your hands

Before I was, you thought of me
Before I felt, you sculpted me
Before I became, you wrote of me
Before I knew, you loved me

Ineffable are your thoughts,
incapable of measure
Yet amoung those thoughts
I was to be sacred treasure

I was formless, a lump of clay,
In the midst of wonders that surrounded
Yet the work of your gentle loving hands
Crafted, carved, and assembled me
By your hands I was grounded

You looked at me and saw purpose
A written story planned before the start
By the echoing voice of creation
You Composed a symphony in my heart
To you I was more than art, I was a mirror

When I was away from you,
I became a smeared painting on a canvas
An orchestra with no composer
A single thread apart from its tapestry
A sheep roaming about with no shepherd

From valley to mountaintop,
Across the river and into the pasture,
With the air you filled into my lungs,
I cried out to the voice that formed me,
And you heard me, and came after me

You called me by name,
A name hidden in the heavenly realms,
Amoung the grains of sand in the earth
The speck that I am is what became

The God of creation knows my name,
The many hairs of my head that rose and fell,
and of the tears I've shed written in your scroll,
The Father of many children, you know well

By your hands, you gathered me from the dirt
By your hands, you cleansed me with love
By your hands, you placed a song in my heart
By your hands, I was once a mirror,
​But by your hands, I am yours