As the tide rises, the closed mollusc
Opens a fraction to the ocean’s food,
Bathed in its riches. Do not ask
What force would do, or if force could.
A knife is of no use against a fortress.
You might break it to pieces as gulls do.
No, only the rising tide and its slow progress
Opens the shell. Lovers, I tell you true.
You who have held yourselves closed hard
Against warm sun and wind, shelled up in fears
And hostile to a touch or tender word—
The ocean rises, salt as unshed tears.
Now you are floated on this gentle flood
That cannot force or be forced, welcome food
Salt as your tears, the rich ocean’s blood,
Eat, rest, be nourished on the tide of love.
~May Sarton “Of Molluscs” from Complete Poems
No question when I was younger, I tried to be a tough shell to crack. Over my years of medical training, I was warned to keep what is soft and tender closed and protected, or I would be picked clean, with my hard remains exposed and emptied.
Yet during those stressful years as a young physician, as one of a handful of female students, I didn’t feel attacked, nor was I forced to float through battering tides to hostile shores. Bathed in salty tears at times, I was comforted when the stormy winds came. My teachers were kind and gentle. Soothing words and heartfelt praise flowed around and through me.
I was treated just as I wanted to treat my patients: with respect and nurture.
All these years later, I have not forgotten this gift of love I was shown by my teachers and colleagues. Even when buried in the muck and sand up to my eyeballs, I could trust enough to open up my hard and crusty parts so I could feel the tide rise over and carry me home.
Hey little boy, whatcha got there?
Kind sir it’s a mollusk i’ve found
Did you find it in the sandy ground?
Does it emulate the ocean’s sound?
Yes I found it on the ground
Emulating the ocean’s sound
Bring forth the mollusk cast unto me
Let’s be forever let forever be free
Hey little boy come walk with me
And bring your new found mollusk along
Does it speaketh of the trinity
Can it gaze at the sun with its wandering eye
Yes it speaks of the trinity
Casting light at the sun with its wandering eye
Bring forth the mollusk, cast unto me
Let’s be forever let forever be free
You see there are three things that spur the mollusk from the sand
The waking of all creatures that live on the land
And with just one faint glance, back into the sea
The mollusk lingers, with it’s wandering eye
~Gene Ween
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