Deepawali

Late autumnal winds

Douse our shore like frothy waves

Leaving speckled shells

Of elation and the coming winter.

It is the festive season

Before it is autumn,

Of the bright ebbing Diya flame

Illuming vivid Rangoli colours.

Little Diwali stars

Of the bright festive lights

Drape buildings like golden veils,

Blinking against inky black.

Different years have passed

For different lives

And yet we don the festive spirit

With each other; like every time

Golden bright flames

Of the lanterns in the sky

Engulf the evening gloom

Like wisdom banishing crudeness.

Lights turn apposite to Deepawali

not with sporadic glare of fireworks,

with the floating lanterns,

Or with the bright candle flame.

Diwali becomes the festival of lights

Only when goodwill

Crowns the wick

Of the true Diya in the heart.