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?
