Covered with the road map
Of a life well-lived,
Her tired, soft hands count the
Pearls knotted onto the string in her lap.
Her eyes, blinded by age,
See the memories
Filling her head, her heart.
Her lips move silently
Mouthing the names
Of loved ones lost,
In a prayer-like celebration
As she counts the pearls
Before her.
Her mother, who loved her first,
Her father, who loved her protectively.
Her husband, who loved her faithfully.
Her children, a son and two daughters,
Who loved her timelessly.
Friends, from childhood to old age,
Who loved through good times and bad.
A minister, who loved her as his Bible taught.
A neighbor, who loved her, sharing
Conversation and coffee.
Grandchildren, who loved her
With simple honesty.
Each name dearly recalled as
Her fingers slip over the nacre’s
Smooth surfaces.
A string of loves
Tied into the endless circle
Of one woman’s life.
True treasure.