The Tear

It was born out of burning hurt.
It was being born gradually like mist, from something strange and hardly understood, expanding everywhere in amorphous unawareness and covering with itself the ray of enlightment.
It was overwhelmed with bitterness of indignation and despair. Impotent spite made it heavy and salty. And finally there was accumulated so much pity, that the mist, not able to endure its own heaviness, stopped expanding and gathered in a heavy drop in the corner of the eye.
 And the eye saw the light.
And the drop, burdened with the offence, slid down to the cheek.
But the hot cheek didn’t want to listen to its offences and gave way to it listlessly further down to… shyly lifted in the timid smile corner of the mouth.
And suddenly the tear felt so easy. It was now overwhelmed with hot wave of forgivingness, that burnt all offences and impotent rage.
It felt to be forgiving and forgiven. The spirit of forgivingness lifted it, weightless, and carried away… there… And there it dissolved in the all-absorbing Spirit of Love and Tolerance. And from there it saw bright eyes and light smile...