The speaker looks back at the moment of birth and sees it as something bright and almost magical: a ball of light, shiny like a pearl, dancing "in the hole of itself." That odd phrase suggests a light that is complete and self-contained, spinning around an emptiness at its own center. Birth, here, is a flash of joy and movement.
Then the poem turns sharply. The present is plain and hard: "I live with difficulty." The speaker finds life "dull without dancing" and "so cold." The title, "Post-natal," meaning "after birth," frames everything that follows as an aftermath. The dance of the opening seems to have ended, and what is left is ordinary living.
The mood is quiet, wistful, and a little bleak. The short lines and plain wording make the loss feel honest rather than dramatic. The speaker doesn't complain loudly; they simply notice that the light is gone, and miss it.