The Sailor and the Pearl

Wash me ashore your lonely sands,
the tide is high and unmerciful.
While residing in the deep end of the ocean floor,
I was captured by hungry seaweed.
It was then that I became familiar
with the secrets we are not supposed to know.

I discovered a shiny pearl,
bright and untouched,
her virginal beauty ethereal and otherworldly.

One day, a ship wrecked
and a sailor drowned.

His body,
still warm and with blood flowing
through each vein,
sank to the bottom and found its tomb.

His soul,
no longer part of the body,
rose to the top,
joining the salty, crystallized foam
sprinkled through the surface.

The dead sailor was an ancient mariner.
He had lived.
He had seen the seven seas.
He was ready to rest.
But the secrets the ocean contained awakened him.

This was all new to him.
This was a wondrous world.
Fertile.
Mysterious.
Beautiful.
Simple.

He opened his eyes - empty sockets.
He moved his limbs - fleshless and skeletal.

He wanted what was there.

He roamed this world,
unsure if it was for him.
Yet he remained in this magical land,
taking, claiming and possessing its treasures
without giving anything in return.

Night after night
and day after day,
he wandered there until
he came upon the pearl.

Seduced by her beauty,
her simple and innocent candor,
the sailor took her.

He didn’t know if he wanted her,
or what he would do, but he didn’t care.
He was a sailor of the seven seas;
he was used to taking without consequences.
He was used to a mindless, meaningless lifestyle.
The world he had known consisted of frivolous beings,
of precious stones that shattered like glass,
of freedom and irresponsibility.

This new world was nothing like his previous one.
This world was fresh, untouched;
it had a heart and a soul.
This world had protected itself for centuries;
it had not had any unsolicited visitors to tarnish its essence.
With the fearless spirit of a savage,
the world fought to remain unknown,
while simultaneously welcoming him
with the innocent naïveté of a child.

Sailor, sailor, what did you do?
You took the pearl, robbed the ocean of its beauty,
frailty, strength, happiness.
With slow hesitation, you didn’t resist temptation.
Everybody got what they wanted.

The sailor returned to the surface,
but his soul was lost in the melting foam.
His eyes were no longer empty;
his body was once again fleshed.
With him he took new knowledge.
But didn’t want it.
He left the pearl, that new world behind.
Just another vague memory of a voyager.

The sailor left, but the pearl and the world didn’t.
They stayed where they had always been,
where they would always be - fighting, protecting, welcoming.

They would never be the same.

The sailor was a brief, but permanent resident of their world.
The echo of his presence was heard in every wave.
The story he left behind was felt in each ripple, in each breeze.

The sailor left. The world was forgotten.
The sailor left. The pearl no longer pure.
The sailor left. The secrets no longer sacred.