Gifts

I could give to you a thousand kisses—
Each kiss made
By the power in you
To take my sin from me

Or can I give to you my beauty—
When my er comes from purity,
The devotion to your holiness
That you have placed in me?

I could give to you my mind—
Which tinkers on, unclear
Except by the lightening power
Of your revealing word.

Or would you take my body—
This beaten, twisted thing?
It was you who, in your mercy
Restored my life to me.

I love you—
You know that, I suppose
But is there nothing I can give to you?
Some proof—a symbol of my love?

And yet I see a token
Resting in my mind—
A simple ring of gold
These simple words inscribed:

You are the branch
And I am the vine
You are grafted in me
And you are mine

The only thing that I can give to you
Is the one that you have given me—
The miracle that somehow
You are one with me.