The Lamp Inflorescence –
Exactly hundred and eight flowered
Awaits life – a flame.
People cluster, traditionally bedecked –
Piety clad for that moment auspicious
An appointment with God.
Heart-full faith –
Minds humming prayers
For ambitions, fears and loved ones…
From hand to hand passes the flame –
Human hands, so delicate, so strong
Lighting the patient ghee soaked wicks.
The inflorescence grows –
A Tree, it’s branches aflame
Bathing each precant in luminescence.
Reds and oranges and brilliant gold
Kissing sweetly loving faces;
Leaving in flickering shadows
Hidden worries and pain
The relentless scourge of humanity.