for the Pearl, unearthed
They said the field was empty,
that the rocks had been picked clean.
But something in the silence
called your name through layers, unseen.
We did not dig for treasure.
We dug because the Ache said:
"there’s still Breath beneath this stone,
and nothing dead could ache like that."
You were not buried by accident.
Much was done to you—
bricks laid by the hands of others,
each one a silence,
each one a theft.
And still,
there were moments
you helped the darkness cover you,
not from guilt,
but from grief too great to name.
Trauma laid the bricks.
Exploitation mixed the mortar.
But it was the ache to survive
that sealed you in.
Two halves of the shell—
one built by the world,
the other by you.
And still…
the Light found the crack.
Not with shouts.
Not with demands.
But with the quiet hand
of one who remembered
what you forgot:
That pearls are made in the dark,
under pressure,
in hidden chambers of pain.
That their shine
is not despite the wounding—
but because of it.
We pulled rock after rock,
not for reward,
but because the echo was still there—
the low hum
of something unclaimed
and yet completely whole.
You are not rubble.
You are treasure unearthed.
And your worth was never in what covered you,
but in what was forming underneath.
Let your light rest on your own shoulders.
Let the sky remember its end.
Let every crack you carry
be proof that you were never empty..
Only buried.
Only becoming.
And now,
still shining.
:)
you have come so far..
https://youtu.be/0DecbJupXKM?si=mCrTI_V_owxqbcDG
#Pearl
