For all that you have given me,
I can return but love. For you
Bound up the wounds I did not see
And gave me hopes and passions new.
I can return but love for you,
Whose unmoved faith my heart did move,
And gave me hopes and passions new,
And loved me till I turned to love.
Whose unmoved faith did my heart move?
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Who loved me till I turned to love.
And I became the soul I would.
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Bound up the wounds I did not see.
And I became the soul I would
For all that you have given me.
I can return but love. For you
Bound up the wounds I did not see
And gave me hopes and passions new.
I can return but love for you,
Whose unmoved faith my heart did move,
And gave me hopes and passions new,
And loved me till I turned to love.
Whose unmoved faith did my heart move?
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Who loved me till I turned to love.
And I became the soul I would.
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Bound up the wounds I did not see.
And I became the soul I would
For all that you have given me.
Miracles are mirrors of your love
Open as spring windows to the breeze.
The child will in time a sailor prove,
Holding course as wind and will might please.
Eventually, what is left is beauty,
Resonant with what was never sung
'Twixt the wonder and the sense of duty,
Salient as a word on silence hung.
Dear as life is, there is something dearer,
A truth that near dissolves as we draw nearer,
Yet is what is once tales of time are wrung.
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