Blog - Pearl Diving Poem
PEARL DIVING – (MOTHER OF YOUR PEARLS)
One day, when your string of pearls breaks, scattering
its wisdoms—not softly, over satin—but clattering
carelessly into the sink, shattering frail certainties
and rushing like rain down the hardwood stairs,
like hail stones pelting their turbulent truths
out the front door, you will stand on the threshold.
What will you do? Will you hand down
that strand that was handed to you?
Blistering heirlooms refusing to bloom!
You will never re-member that strand, exactly,
as each pearl lay lacing your neck, glinting
the light, and hinting at fractured futures,
into which you had no time to reflect. But lovers
could re-count for you that stale sequence
you could never admit ‘till it all fell apart. Lovers
who never tethered themselves to you, nor kept watch
as you dove deep for your own fresh pearls. Nor
took their turns diving, as pairs of pearl divers do,
measuring the length of a breath at that depth for the other,
then tugging the cord when it’s time to come up again,
and again. So now, un-adorned, un-encumbered,
in a post-storm swell, the present waits.
And you tread, cycling in stillness, tasting
a tiny grain of sand.
~Maureen P. Murphy