February 2009 - Vol. 27

The Pearl in My Hand

poem by Blanca Morales
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I held a pearl in my hand
My most valuable prize
I held it tightly,
Afraid to lose it,
Afraid to drop it.
So I held on to it
Squeezing it in my hand.

Dark and gray was the roaring sea
The waves a torrential mess
They beckoned,
Long arms trying to grasp me.
I held back.
Watching in distress.
Waiting for nothing,
Waiting for something.

I looked at my pearl,
All the sea ever offered me,
What more could I hope for,
If it offered nothing else?

And out of the mist
Out of the gray blue dusk he came
Like a light shining in the darkness
A light darkness could not overcome
"Come," he said.
And I followed.
Scared, reluctant, curious.
Hoping for something more.

He talked, I listened.
I talked, he listened.
With every step, I grew wise
As I walked by his side.

"See what I see," said he.
Beyond the empty darkness
Beyond the tumult and the waves–
A glimpse of a far off place,
Between time and space,
A beacon, a haven.

"Meet me there," he said.
I paused, for a moment,
Remembering the pearl in my hand,
The beloved pearl.

"Let it go," he told me,
"If you want to meet me there,
Let it go."

I was reluctant.

It was mine. All mine.
I couldn't give it up.

And while the sun set and rose again
Warm rays resting on my cheeks
Melting away my fears
All my woes disappeared

And it suddenly became very clear:
That pearl in my hand
Was nothing more than a grain of sand.

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Blanca Morales grew up in Miami, Florida, USA along with her parents and siblings as a member of La Nueva Jerusalen community. For the past few years she has been actively involed in youth ministry and St. Paul's Outreach program. She is currently finishing a bachelors in Religious Studies.
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