I marvel at the workings of the human hand To touch and hold, shape and mold they Lead and teach, work and scold from infancy Till death they fold. I ponder too, the power of the human heart To touch and hold, shape and mold it Leads and teaches, draws and reaches Forever into lives it seasons. The hand and heart are intertwined Refined and kind or rough and blind To lift or wound, build or swoon The hand applies as the heart inclines. So know, that when I hold your hand You’re holding my heart as well. With every squeeze my hand applies My heart is pounding: “Joy!” inside.