Pearls

When I was thinking of Katy in Zimbabwe - from my last post.  She was picking through a recently plowed field for corn kernels to take back to her grandson.  Without her, the child would surely perish.  She was going to share these precious grains with him even though she hadn't eaten in three days.  After writing that piece I was reminded of a song by Sade called "Pearls".  If you have not heard it... you should.  It is on an album called "Love Deluxe" from '92.  Old school, but oh so wonderful.  Smooth.  Silky.  Fine.  

I remember washing the dishes and listening to the words - really listening.  You know, sometimes when you get new music you listen first to the feel of it.  It isn't until after a while that you listen to the message.  Anyway, I was finally listening to the  message of this lovely song.  I stopped the chores I was doing and sat in front of the speakers with the liner notes in front of me, reading along as Sade sang.  I listened again with my eyes closed.  Crying.  It isn't just the lyrics.  It is her voice.  Hypnotic, powerful and, if you know Sade, smooth.

I hadn't heard this album in a while but after posting yesterday's piece I was drawn to it again.  Once again it made me cry.  Here are the lyrics.  If you get a chance to listen to it sometime, you should [click on one of the links above].  I can't guarantee that it will make you cry but it WILL make you feel something.  The hero in this song is Somalian.  She is scraping for pearls on the roadside and not in the freshly plowed field that Katy searched.  But they are both searching for pearls.  Pearls.  In Sade's song our hero is simply human, her actions and feelings universal.

there is a woman in somalia

scraping for pearls on the roadside

there's a force stronger than nature

keeps her will alive

this is how she's dying

she's dying to survive

don't know what she's made of

i would like to be that brave

she cries to the heaven above

there is a stone in my heart

she lives a life she didn't choose 

and it hurts like brand-new shoes

hurts like brand-new shoes

there is a woman in somalia

the sun gives her no mercy

the same sky we lay under

burns her to the bone

long as afternoon shadows

it's gonna take her to get home

each grain carefully wrapped up

pearls for her little girl

hallelujah

hallelujah

she cries to the heaven above

there is a stone in my heart

she lives in a world she didn't choose

and it hurts like brand-new shoes

hurts like brand-new shoes