The Music of Your Hands!

Sweet Little Red Bird

The beauty hidden in a tree

A singer and his whistled tune

His presence heard but yet unseen

Your feathers, I know, have a crimson hue

And though you have a much higher view

How I wish that you would appear on cue! 

Dear Heavenly Father

For faith's substance I humbly pray

Tho' Promised Things seem far away

Proof of Your plans appear delayed  

Your truth is known by faith alone

Your eyes see miracles yet unshown

Your voice will still my heart's deep moan

And when I can’t see your hands

I know you are at work

Because in the quiet of my heart

I Hear Your Music!