To Whom Much Is Given

J.B. Toner

My gift?  My gift?  My burden, onus, cross,
 Spine-bending load, soul-chafing, grinding yoke,
 Bit, spur, leash, collar whereupon I choke,
The gain that means my ease and freedom's loss—
This gift of words, bequeathed I know not why:
 This keenest hound without a scent to track,
 This knight without a dragon to attack,
This arrow with no target but the sky.
Thou madest me a steward, but what for?
  A herald with no message to proclaim,
Shall I condemn, exult, blaspheme, adore,
  Spit, sing, scream, carol, cry, laud, lie, praise, blame,
Repudiate my powers forevermore—
  Or only murmur patiently Your name?