I dive for words 

like pearls 

in the vast blueness of my mind 

searching within myself

 

bringing to light 

thoughts and feelings 

which have lodged themselves firmly 

in the tenderest part of my soul 

germinating, growing, morphing  

art as an act of purging 

a way of turning my thoughts and feelings 

into something which can exist outside of myself 

capable of reflecting the world back onto itself 

I wield the pen like a scalpel 

an oyster knife 

shuck my soul 

for hidden pearls 

probing and prodding 

as though around a sore tooth 

in each poem  

a single grain of truth 

a piece of myself 

almost hidden 

made smooth  

by rhyme and repetition 

feeling lighter once it is out 

having given words to the feeling or thought 

I render it tangible 

extract it with great care 

like a bad tooth 

or a precious pearl