The dive

The abalone diver;
Who will plunge the deep for shell, pearl, meat.

How friendless are you willing to be
Down on the floor of the sea, or the roof of the sky,

Everything is turned around when you’ve gone inside,
Even the inner nacre doesn’t know whether it is the color of brine or sun, prismatic.

You shine the light in and you are the one choosing to never not know again
Whatever it is you’ve traveled inwardly to expose.

Against the weight of your origins, can you bear the thrashing
And become tender, too? Like the abalone seared in butterfat.

Suspended over the stove, you reflect your role as predator in the food chain,
With tongs you place supper on the plate, some lemon.

Whatever you come back with, from the dive down dark,
Feed yourself on it, on the holler of your heart.