I had a pearl of great worth.
I put it in a box– hid it away.
Too dangerous to let anyone know about it.
It was worth too much.
I lived a mundane life,
only I knew the secret of this pearl.
Still hidden, I hid it from friends, family, all who knew me.
Years went by and I forgot about the pearl.
Loss and death overwhelmed me with grief.
I forgot about the pearl of great price.
The pearl forgotten,
studies and a shaky purpose took its place.
Something I thought I wanted.
That too burned — went up in flames. Burning down the house.
In the ashes I found the pearl.
But blamed all upon the perfect milky sphere.
I gave it away– to the depths of the earth.
A weight lifted.
I was free.
I met another to share joy with.
But became a slave.
Though I gave the pearl away, all I ever sought was that very same perfect milky sphere.
So went on a quest to find what I gave away.
Everywhere I looked I saw a glimpse of the perfect milky sphere.
But none of it was the pearl itself.
It wasn’t in the cloud cover;
wasn’t in the mountains;
not the ocean;
not in the sand or the sea;
neither the grassy valley nor the country field.
Not in the eyes of the beauty.
Or in all the knowledge in the world.
A man of wisdom told me, it was nearer to me than my very heartbeat, but farther than the furthest star.
I looked to the heavens, to the darkest star–
But it wasn’t there either.
I looked everywhere.
I never found it again.
Until one evening, on my deathbed–
I saw it.
And I lived again.