Making Pearls

You won’t stay in the background where it is safe with a closest full of memories; tiny moments of time carefully carved into my aging frame.  Nor will you stay in the present along side my yearnings and questions and quest for forward movement.

You just sway back and forth, tiny movements, creating a constant irritation, which leaves me anxious and forever wading in this stagnant river that is us.  Flip flopping between what was and what is, the now and then, the if and why. 

Irritation makes pearls.  In this standing water, where the flies, nepidae and dragonflies flock for algae that grows from the living memories.

The Dragonfly’s scurrying flight across water, telling me there is more going beyond what’s on the surface, to look into the deeper implications and aspects of my life.

 

They are fantastic flyers, darting like light, twisting, turning, changing direction, even going backwards as the need arises. They are relentless.

Irritation makes pearls. I keep reminding myself

They seem to never give up...never resting for more than a few seconds....

You are relentless, constantly pulling me back down into the dark waters, to visit the despair that lives there.  And then you disappear, leaving me in the dark, drowning in the muck, groping for a way up.

Irritation makes pearls.

I wonder if the knot in my throat is that pearl, growing into the wisdom that comes from the darkness.  Or is it the one that resides in my heart, now mature, its beautiful luster, my medal of honor?  Pearls of insight to share with those that follow, a reminder about the perils of devotion and irritation; of making love and making pearls.