The one only supreme treasure I have to give you
is not merely a token or a gift for your pleasure,
A fine bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon
A book I know you'll love
Tickets to the sold-out concert
Flowers or jewelry as cordials to lift your head
And straighten your sagging shoulders.

For years on end I could sprinkle your life
With phone calls, and birthday cards,
Or visits over breakfasts.
I could support your causes,
Attend your performances
And try out your recommendations.
I could tolerate your excesses, foibles and annoyances.
Forgive your hurts, and disappointments.

These indeed are the stuff of friendships and family,
Of neighbors and strangers, too.

My gift to you, though, exceeds all these.
Its value cannot be counted.
Nor can it be locally purchased,
No number of dollar bills can buy it.
It costs me more than I can explain,
Yet it is the truest measure of my love for you.
For anyone, actually.

It is the fire inside me,
Whose spark snapped from the Light of Life.
Whose fuel is God's own breath -
The Spirit of Unquenchable Love.
The Original, everlasting flames,
Of dancing, furious faith - indomitable hope.
Of joy, glistening and pulsating with glory.
This fire is exactly what burns in the heart of the Father;
Our own Maker.

I must tend this fire.
I must enter this fire,
Abide in its roaring flames of love
That preserve me unconsumed.
I must want this.

I must love this fire
With my fullest energy,
My intellect, my will, my meditations.
It must be the capital joy,
The ceaseless pursuit of my highest affections.

See, my friend,
See, my beloved,
In this fire I can warm you.
I can cast true light on your path,
Feed you with eternal food,
Wrap you in the arms of perfect comfort.
I am become to you an avenue
On which ride the ways and wisdom
Of the Ancient of Days.
I can quicken your faith and hope.
I can inflame your imagination for good.
I can give this to you,
And set you on fire, forever.

I have this fire.
This Holy Fire has me.
I did not get it around here.
Mercy visited me on purpose.
The ineffable tenderness opened into me.
This Fire was given. To me.
It is the goodness and perfection of all giving,
The Generator that the word 'gift' feebly defines.
It is the gift inexhaustible.

Separate from the fire I'm but a man.
A cold and calculating imitator
Of all that I admire about it.
At best I give whatever good a mere man can.
That's it.
Stingy and stubborn,
When I'm dickering over the cost,
Can I honestly say that I'm doing my best by you?
Shall an authentic man make deals with Truth?
No, he'll spare nothing and declare,
'The higher the price, the better the bargain.'

I can do no more than touch you
With the exhilarating wildfire of freedom,
The thunderous flares of mystery and wonder.

I can do no better than ignite you
With the 'Love that fires the sun',
The only fire that keeps me burning.