A Love Letter to India.
I am not Indian nor have I ever been to India.
Perhaps one day I’ll get a chance to visit you.
In the meantime, I find your culture to be the most beautiful,
colorful, vibrant, and intricate.
Your marigolds, those solar flares of orange and gold,
decorating alters and market stands,
made into necklaces, woven into hair
They have always been my favorite flower.
Tiny, closely bound petals yet hardy, strong and lively.
Lotus petals floating off into the Ganges
where you shed the old you to cleanse your spirit.
The burnt red sunset of mehndi swirling tradition
over your hands and feet.
Intricate suns to awaken the inner light.
Your stories of a pantheon full
of bold gods and goddesses.
Brahma, Ganesha, Hanuman,
Kali, Lakshmi, Shiva, Vishnu.
All your vibrant spices.
The warm curry, fresh baked naan,
basmati rice, Darjeeling tea.
Your glorious celebrations
festival of lights.
Honor the light.
It always overcomes the darkness
And good conquers evil.
So tend to your light.
Set off the sparks,
ignite the burning fires of your heart.
Let it crackle and the flames burst rainbows
of stardust into the night.
Light the candles.
Send off the paper lanterns
like they’re the dreams you dream come true.
Hope among our dark crevices.
Light up my heart
A fire burning bright,
a solar eclipse after a lunar lullaby.