I once thought talent was the glitter and shine,
But shine has no sparkle without will and design.
A talent lies sleeping, shut fast in a drawer,
Until desire says there’s much, much more.
In school, I loved math and what functions could do.
Assigned even-numbered problems, I did odd ones too.
While others stopped early and shut their books tight,
I worked double the problems well into the night.
Then Problem Six said, “You don’t stand a chance.”
It winked and it wobbled and dared me to dance.
No rule we had learned could explain what I saw,
So I puzzled and proved until my brain said, “Aha!”
Next morning, students said, “Did you get Number Six?”
I nodded while wondering if others were in the same fix.
When Dr. Locke asked, “Who solved Number Six?”
Up went my hand. Oh, that memory still sticks.
“Go write it,” he said. I had blackboard work to do.
Line after line showed logic that was all new.
The joy wasn’t grades, and it wasn’t applause.
It was loving the doing. That was the cause.
Now numbers still visit, but not like before.
They tap in my head, then slip out the door.
My passion changed to writing great stories,
With captivating plots and action glories.
So talents are just seeds in the soil of the soul.
They bloom when desire takes charge of the role.
It’s not what you have that decides what you’ll do.
It’s what you can’t help but keep chasing clear through.
