Year after year purity of fire is challenged by evil, appeased with offerings A full moon looks on as winds stoke embers, flare flames to a flickering dance Right in the center of crimson blaze sits Holika, Prahlad in her lap - her arms a circle of heat White sparks fly from her hair, eyes smolder in fury; her mouth sucks in air, engulfs rice and wheat Wood chars, coconuts splinter, flowers singe smearing earth with ash. Year after year faith survives. Holika burns to death. May you have the most blessed holi festival than you ever had. May it be full of fun,joy and love. May you be as colorful as the festival itself or even more. Lets all have lots of fun.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Mar 2014 04:45:08 +0000
Trending Topics
© 2015