The one of great price

For Elisabeth Schut, my next door neighbour in Amsterdam who died this morning, aged 95

One pearl, that's all I need to make;
Perfect, iridescent, something wondrous
Then I can lay down my sword and shield
Wash off the sweat
Heave a mighty sigh
And be justified.

I begin to find the way -
something to do with never giving up
never taking off the hand from the ploughshare -
I vaguely recall -
not quenching the smoking flax
nor breaking the bruised reed -
And platitude above all platitudes,
never letting go of hope.

So maybe it does come down to clichés.
In the last resort I do not want grand rhetoric
A simple poem maybe, a lyric - yes -
A song: smooth, neat, precise, complete.
A pearl.
Luminous, layered, a life's healing.