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I, cold ... cold as stone ...
But is that not befitting such as I?
Once, merely common, hidden deep in the earth,
Still, my quality made itself known ... my porcelain perfection

Shone in the sun, and I was freed from Terra's grasp ...
Across a great sea I was rocked, carried in care
To finally, joyfully, go under The Master's hand.
I slowly, agonizingly, emerged from the cloud-white slab, pure ...

Brought forth into all glory and consummation!
Stone saw, chisel, rasp, cloth, and paper ... I stretched my limbs, reached my
Fingers and toes to the ether ... arched my back in a repose of death,
Laid upon an altar of mocked coral, draped only in my net -

The Pearl Diver's repository of all things glistening and wondrous!
Oh, what exquisite orbs, those that grace the net's seam!
White, pink, and black opaline gems - iridescent ocean treasures!
Miraculous drops of milky, nacreous moonlight, hidden in Neptune's gullet,

Awaiting their emancipation ... finally freed at the edge of the diver's blade!
But that, for me, is yet a dream ... I am but stone, after all ...
Be content, instead, to gaze upon my keen beauty,
I, the polished progeny of a sculptor's acumen,

I, the refined, glorious bloom of stone,
I, the ivory issue of marble elegance,
I, the bairn of a master ...
The Dead Pearl Diver.





~ 2nd Place ~  in the " ... And Now For Something Completely Different" Poetry Contest, John Lawless, Judge & Sponsor.

~ Honorable Mention ~  in the "Brian's Choice Q, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

( This is about the sculpture "The Dead Pearl Diver" by Benjamin Paul Akers 1858, currently on display at The Portland Museum of Fine Art in Portland, ME ... this was a personal favorite of Nathaniel Hawthorne, and he wrote about it more than once. This is an incredible sculpture, especially in person )
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