They built the stones that we stand on,
They blessed and graced the work long gone.
They dropped the first seed into the earth,
To a mighty tree from it’s first birth.

They brushed the sea with speckled wave,
From white wing dove to stone age cave.
They wiped the stars to shine the sun,
For mountain giants and water run.

They touched the world with fulfilling fair,
And painted it all with endless care.

Pensive Phoenix

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/working-hands/