Pearls Mean Tears

"Pearls mean tears." — Doris Lessing

Pearls mean tears she said
What do you mean he said
Are we talking Tahitian black
fat too pricey for the casual gift

unless a million may be said
casually and you can step over
a twenty dollar bill without
stooping to pick it up and so forth

or how about Japanese women
knives between their teeth
diving in only a twist of cloth
to great depths at great risk

I suppose there's lots to cry about there
No she said I mean Rembrandt
that room in the National Gallery
sounds of baroque those rough

imperfect pearls falling
into Trafalgar Square with flocks
of pigeons sent soaring each time
St. Martins-in-the-Fields' doors open

and the big canvas teasing
teasing all the experts how did
the master make the skin translucent
how did he capture the light

as if he placed one brushstroke
inside each shell of time
and tears grew there to bead up
in the corner of an eye

and fall in the second movement
or the third the lions stationary
unmoved guarding the monument
the one-armed one-eyed admiral

while inside the luster and sheen
the opacity cries out to be seen
long after the master himself
disappears from view