Priceless Pearls....License to float in untangible pain....

Scattered Pearls and Souls

Anjali Tirkey

Every evening

gloom descends noiselessly

along with the night

and settles in every corner of my room.

But before that happens,

every time before that happens,

somewhere outside,

over the hills,

the sky becomes a collage of beautiful colours.

And in their midst,

in the midst of the fiesta of colours,

the sun does a ballet with the fleeting clouds

and the wind amongst the trees plays music in my ears.

And along this,

along this symphony of the silhouetty dusk,

a few boats sail quietly in the river

and the birds settle in the nests,

disturbing the harmony with much hue and cry.

And somehow unheard,

unheard in the clamour and the cry,

gloom sneaks in the room

and makes home in broken and sorry hearts.

And sometimes,

sometimes in some dark, unexpected nights,

the moon swims out of the clouds

and sheds a drop of water

for those melancholy hearts.

And once in a while,

yes only once in a while,

this drop of  salty water

reaches some lonely heart and makes a dwelling there.

And in the rarest of rare times,

the times when nature waves it’s magic wand,

a miracle takes place.

The moon’s tear perhaps with the heart’s gloom, 

creates a pearl - fair as the moon, fragile as gloom.

But often before that,

before the moon’s pearl blooms in the clandestine heart

the beating stops

and a clenched soul tears the gloom and soars high in the sky.

In that evening,

in the frozen silence of that scorching evening,

what is heard in my room

is the deafening echo of the gloom

and perhaps the soft sound of scattering pearls of moon.