i hold it close; precious, golden beauty in my hand.
what could be done with this gift?
lives could be saved, cupboards could be filled, joy could be wrought.
but this gift- is a fearsome thing.
cruel master, handing out talents, no direction or expectations explained.
you seek trust, faith, a pure heart; i fall short on all three.
beneath the gilded surface in my hand lies great fear.
“hide it away,” i think.
why, why, master, did you place this in my hand?
others have two or five shining gifts; i wonder at the difference.
is it more frightening to risk one gift out of five?
or is the singular talent the greater burden?
one shot.
one chance.
one gift to multiply.
i have never known a darkness so horrifying nor hallowed.
“who am i?” i shout into the deep places.
who am i to receive even one?
couldn’t i go unnoticed, unneeded, exempt from your call?
dear god, i would hide myself in the ground if only i knew how.
why must i do big things with this talent?
couldn’t i just hand it to that man with the sign on the corner?
or place it in the hands of a friend to do as they like?
what is this cursed gift you have laid upon me?
but i have heard of your plans to return.
face to face, you will ask me to give an account.
digging deeper than my hidden gold,
i uncover my desire to please you most of all.
i look to the heavens.
i will not hide my talent beneath dirt.
i will sow my words, lay down my life.
great shall be your glory.
in aching sorrow i cast aside my fear and hold you close.
with trembling hands i send my shining gift out into the world.
salvation comes through your one true talent,
your gift of love sent into the world.
he was buried in the ground and rises anew in me…
and this is how the talent multiplies.
