The Necklace

She watches deft fingers sweep fluently
Over bumps of its gilded metal skin,
Limbs molded into God’s resting place
Golden arms peppered with teardrops of angels
That glint in rows of uniform precision
Tumbling down with limber physique,
Its weary head rests upon her mother’s breast.

It is a phoenix – aged body swallowed by surging flames
Bursting into a whisper of tumbling dust,
A new breath of life emerging from its smoldering embers.
Though it may not grasp her attention now,
One day she will find the beauty and strength within
As she watches the brilliant plumage blossom
Sewing wonder into the patchwork of her mind.

Passed down and down and down again,
Through the tide of women that bear her family name
From mother to daughter – daughter to grandchild
Revealing and providing generations of strength and drive
As her mother exposes its true purpose
Her heart abandons any uncertainty toward it
As it will be hers one day.