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A Breath of Ancient Years
Timeless tapestries unfold
Oh radiant queen of Diwali, the breath of ancient years, your timeless tapestries unfold—rich with the fragrance of crushed cardamom and sandalwood, spreading purity and delight.
You are the breath of ancient years, turning darkness into light and healing the spirit’s scars.
The tiny diyas we burn pierce the gloom of November skies. They burn brightly tethered to the Earth. They glow on parapets and glide along window sills, sentinels that speak a language of hope.
Each flame whispers ancient secrets, swallowing shadows of grief into a soft amber glow.
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Humility resounds in every step as you, our Goddess, walk every street and make the humblest house a home. Traditions sit by the door, tracing patterns of flour and vermilion on the floor as you bless the porches everywhere you go.
A reverence in the rhythmic chimes of the bells; the laughter of kin becomes heartbeats that swell. As we welcome you at the door, you bless us with riches of the mind and peace that fills the soul.
Rangoli feels like your vibrant smile, wiping shadows for a while. You drape the porch in marigolds, a bright and saffron radiance. Sweets rich and laced, offerings to heaven, a mortal taste. The rustle of new silk unfolds woven memories and stories told.
The wick continues to burn, a silent thread of fire tracing a hidden lineage that binds today to the past. A reminder that light is the legacy we inherit, trim, and pass along.
We pay homage to you, our queen, as you touch and light our souls to brave the wind, reminding us that the smallest spark can banish the deepest night.
Happy Diwali, everyone. May the light of Diwali bring each of you good health, happiness, and peace.
