Today a while it rained I washed the jars And then I lit a flame set the water to start And at the end of the day lined up to cool and seal Twelve pints of spiced peach jam twenty jars of dill beans canned From an old recipe that my mother gave to me Because it's good to put a little bit by For when the late snows fly All that love so neatly kept By the work of our hands Lay hands on boards and bricks and loud machines With shovels and rakes and buckets of soup they clean And I believe that we should bless evеry shirt ironed and pressed Salutе the crews out on the roads Those who stock shelves and carry loads Whisper thanks to the brooms and saws the dirty boots and coveralls And bow my head to the waitress and nurse Tip my hat to the farmer and clerk All those saints with skillets and pans And the work of their hands Work of their hands Laid out on the counter pull up out of hot water The work of our hands so faithful and true I make something barely there music is a little more than air So now every year I'll put by tomatoes and pears Boil the lids and wipe the lip with a calloused fingertip And I swear by the winter ground We'll open one and pass the thing around Let the light catch the jar amber gold as a falling star It's humble and physical it's only love made visible Yeah now I understand it's the work of our hands