The Healing Hand of God

Silence, the echo of a whispered prayer. The weight of the night,

the breath that's no longer there. A bruise, a scar, a wound

that won't fade. The world holds its breath, but it's still a cascade.

Hands that have danced with sorrow and light. Hold a promise

that nothing is beyond sight. Every tear, every heartbeat that's torn

is a story, a lesson, a new day reborn. No hay nada

que la mano de Dios no pueda sanar. Desde los rincones de la sombra

hasta la luz que va a brillar. In every wound, in every broken