Blessing is in copyright and only 100 words long, so this page quotes no more than 15 of its words in all, and every quotation is a short phrase. Everything else is described in our own words with a stanza and line number from the anthology, page 53, so you can read the surrounding lines in your own copy. Study the other lines in the anthology itself, not on websites or in other books: some print them wrongly.
“cracks like a pod”
Stanza 1, line 1
The poem’s first image is a simile that makes drought physical. A pod is the case that holds a plant’s seeds, and when it dries out it splits. Dharker never says whose skin it is, which opens two readings: the cracked earth of a dry city, or the dry skin of the people who live there. The better answer is both, because in this poem the land and the bodies suffer together. The hard k sound in the verb makes the line sound brittle. And a pod holds seeds, so even this image of dryness carries a hint of life waiting for water, which the final stanza, full of children, answers.
“kindly god”
Stanza 2, line 6
The imagined sound of a single drop echoing in a cup becomes a god speaking. The metaphor shows how precious water is: something as small as a drip is holy. The god is gentle and generous, a kindly one, not a god of power or judgement, and the poem says a god, not God, which suggests it belongs to no single faith. The phrase rhymes with pod in line 1, framing the first two stanzas between the cracked body and the god who could relieve it. But the god is only imagined: stanza 2 opens with a command to imagine, so this kindness exists only in the mind of someone who is thirsty.
“silver”
Stanza 3, line 9
When the pipe bursts, the water is simply called silver, a metaphor that works through colour and through value. Spraying water in sunlight does look silver, but silver is also money and treasure, and the line follows a word for luck at line 8 that also means wealth. In places where many people have to buy their water from vendors, as the context section on this page shows, it is close to currency. The metaphor begins a pattern of metals running through the poem, from the metal cup of stanza 2 to the metal pots of lines 14-15 and the burnished skin of the children. The irony is plain: the only riches that ever reach this neighbourhood arrive by accident, and spill onto the street.
“roar of tongues”
Stanza 3, line 11
The water finds a voice. Roar is a word for a lion or a crowd, so the water is personified as powerful, even wild, and the sound of the poem has grown from the tiny imagined drip of stanza 2 to this. Tongues works in several ways at once: the streams of water lick out of the pipe like tongues, and the phrase also suggests many voices shouting together as the crowd arrives. There may be a religious echo too, of the story of Pentecost, in which believers begin to speak in other tongues after a sudden rushing sound; that is a possibility rather than a certainty, but it fits the religious language around it. The phrase is loud, wet and full of life.
“congregation”
Stanza 3, line 12
A congregation is a group of people gathered for worship, as Pearson’s own glossary notes, so one word turns the crowd rushing out of their huts into worshippers and the burst pipe into a place of prayer. It stresses unity: they are gathered together with one purpose. The colon after it opens a list of everyone who comes, adults and children alike, which shows the whole community drawn in. There is also irony, and even comedy, in the word, because this congregation has not come to pray quietly but to push forward carrying pots and buckets. Dharker lets the reader enjoy the energy while understanding the need behind it.
“liquid sun”
Stanza 4, line 19
The children play in the spray, and the water and sunlight merge into a single image. The metaphor is almost a paradox, because the sun is what dried the land and cracked the skin in stanza 1, and water is its opposite. Here the two become one, and the heat that caused the suffering is turned into something the children can bathe in. The image is bright, warm and joyful, the high point of the poem’s celebration. It also shows the painter’s eye Pearson notices in Dharker’s work: the middle of the stanza is all light and shine on wet skin.
“small bones”
Stanza 4, line 23
The final phrase undercuts the joy just before the poem ends. Small stresses how young and slight the children are, and it echoes line 4, where the same adjective described the imagined splash, so the children seem as fragile as the little water they usually have. Bones may suggest thinness, even hunger, and bones are also what is left of a body after death, so a blessing sung above bones sounds uncomfortably like a prayer at a burial. Not every reader will go that far, and the phrase can be read simply as tender. But ending on the body’s frailty stops the poem being only a celebration.