The pearl

By an accident the other day

a streak of light intruded

into the cold bliss of darkness

inside my protective shells.

Light’s warmth was disquieting,

(it always brings forth sorrow)

A pricking pain

- how pleasant ere it was without light!

The pain – the aching pain –

was tinged with my blood,

rinsed in my tears,

flavoured with my sweats.

I nursed the pain in my womb

tossed it on my bosom.

Of late I started to like it.

A rough feel, a hostile pressure,

shells opened jaws in pain.

Light was squeezed out.

A bit of chill through spines.

In pain

I was overjoyed

to see my darling pearl

lying beside me

with twinkle of stars,

smile of moon,

radiance of sun undying;

while I felt the chill of death

and stench of my decaying limbs.