Right In His Hands Poem by Lehlohonolo Selai

From the street so cold
With pride too great to uphold
I fell though not so hard as in a wild pond
But right in his hands so warm

Like a young born
Dressed in a time-bomb
I long to serve you Lord with no clue
And innocently rush to your hands

Like an eagle so not fickle
Equip me Lord with an intention
To stick to you with pure attention
So like an eagle I may firmly fly

Should I face terror
I would seek a corner
Not far away but much closer
Yes, right in his hands; the father

Should my ears taste evil
Or my eyes stumble upon evil
Carry me, O' my mind, to my knees
Or deliver me, O' my feet, right into his hands

Should I marry lies
Yet not by will but by chance
Oh root me out Holy Spirit
And plant me back into his hands

If I hadn't any tears
I wouldn't have had any spilled
At the thought his screams
Oh just so to pave my way to his hands

At the centre of it all
I lift mine hands in awe
To him in his place above all
The Lord in whose hands I dwell

In the midst of my worries
I surrender all my glories
To the one with much more glory
The Lord in whose hands I'm carried

Oh should I again face terror
Let me seek a corner
Not far away but much closer
Yes, right in your hands my father