A Thanksgiving Prayer for Those Who Don’t Pray

A Thanksgiving Prayer for Those Who Don’t Pray

Thanks for the hands.

All of them.

            That dug and scratched,

            reaped and loaded,

            milled and butchered,

            baked and cooked,

            served and scrubbed.

The cracked,

            the bleeding,

                        the blistered hands.

The hands that

hewed and smelted,   

            sawed and hammered,

            wove and sewed,

            put together and took apart.

The  calloused,

            the  greasy,

                        the grimy hands.

The hands that

            wrote and painted,

            plucked and keyed

            carved and created.

The graceful,

            the supple,

                        the nimble hands.

The hands that

            caressed and fondled,

            stroked and petted,

            held and are held,

            grasped and gave,

            played and prayed.

The warm,

            the soft,

                        the forgiving hands.

And today bless even the hands that

            shoved and scourged,

            slapped and smote,

            bound and chained us.

The harsh,

            the hateful,

                        the heavy hands.

Today they cannot still our hands

            from their pleasure and their duty.

The void of anger they create,

            our hands fill with love.

The gentle,

            the clasping,

                        the reaching hands.

—Patrick Murfin