A poem on Psalm 123

Let my eye not leave your hand
The hand that guides, provides, disciplines
With you only am I safe
From grasping hands that take and take

Your hand guided in the desert
Your hand draws near the desperate
You provide from fish’s mouths
You use little to feed great crowds
You stay the hand of accusers
Your hand disciplines temple profiteers

Your hand disciplines, provides, guides
On you, O Lord, I fix my eyes

Psalm 123
A Song of Ascents.
1 I lift up my eyes to you,
you who sit in the heavens.
2 Behold, as the eyes of servants look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of a maid to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to Yahweh, our God,
until he has mercy on us.
3 Have mercy on us, Yahweh, have mercy on us,
for we have endured much contempt.
4 Our soul is exceedingly filled with the scoffing of those who are at ease,
with the contempt of the proud.