When God gave out the talents,

no one really cared,

for then we were one people

and everything was shared.

 

When God dispensed desires,

all fell into dust.

Everyone had different wants,

and we forgot to trust.

 

And while this holy act

brought trials to us all,

I have a certain grievance

that I would like to call.

 

My talents are a pleasure,

I like them quite a bit:

I’m smart, I learn nonstop

I don’t want to pitch a fit…

 

But my desires just don’t match

the talents that God gave.

The things that I can do, you see,

are not the things I crave.

 

Music! Song! to sing aloud

with the power of the sea!

Yet I open up my mouth

and a squalling whine crawls free.

 

Perhaps, I think, my pipes won’t do,

but thunder I will bring.

I’ll just use an instrument

if my voice won’t sing.

 

Alas, my friend, ’tis all for naught,

piano, strings, or flute.

I miss a beat or fingers slip,

and, once again, I’m mute.

 

So, God on High, if you can hear

this flimsy little rhyme,

Gift me with a voice like rain!

It wouldn’t cost a dime.

 

My songbird’s heart is not content

confined by vocal folds.

It needs to fly, release the songs

and brightness that it holds.