I watched as five were placed into his hands,
and another two given, trusted to a pair.
Then one was left, and it could barely stand
beside the wealth that others proudly bear.
✦ He walked away, then hid it in the ground,
perhaps he was scared, or he was at ease.
While others worked, his talent stayed bound,
untouched beneath the roots of growing trees.
When called to show what all their hands had made,
the others came with harvests of their own.
He brought the one he never dared to trade,
and realized what he had left alone.
And sometimes I wonder, looking back,
how many gifts I had left untouched by fear,
how often doubt disguised itself as lack,
and deemed my one could never matter here.
For it was never about what others were bestowed,
nor whether mine could ever equal theirs,
but whether I would dare to let it grow,
and tend the gift entrusted to my care.
Abigail Blessan
