The Oracle’ Curse

Always knew talent when he heard it

the way a cook knows when the meat's ready

just by the sound of the sizzle; it lit

his imagination, held it steady

so that he could settle the arrangement

the colors of chords in brass, strings, those things

that put light forth from the core filament

in a steady back beat, the triangle's tings

it takes one to know one, genius, that is

for otherwise who would have even known

but you see that was a talent of his

seeing in others how the light is shown

only never to be recognized too

except by those that were the chosen few