I dive deeply, down. The saran-wrapped glistening surface of the sea splits open as my body submerges, deeper and deeper into the beauty of the underworld. The pearl lays proudly, cradled by its translucent shell, edges strong and deliberate against the soft comfort of the pearl.
I can't smell down here, but the hint of muskiness of old ships that may have capsized nearby come into my mind, and once again my eye goes to the serenity of the stark white pearl, the beacon of hope grounding the flurry of the sea. I near closer to the pearl, all around me the swishing of playful tigerfish tickling my ear.
The pearl, even more luminescent up close, shines like the brightest treasure of the sea. I long to touch it, but fear the power that it holds on me, as if even grazing the pearl with my fingertips would offset the balance of mother earth and her ocean. I still, looking at the pearl, and then up at the mouth of the sea, overcome by the vastness and the gravity of the world around me.