How a candle made of wax,
Is now a glass bulb, inside weather-proofed
Vesak lanterns; While a monk carries
A saffron colored umbrella, and walks
To a temple, while the rain pummels,
As a little child, places a paper boat
On a mud puddle, waiting for nightfall,
To see what marvels light can do.

The solitary splendor,
Even what is patterned in rows and columns
Of light. How we all have solitary beauty,
That gets camouflaged by the light,
Of the ambient, just like how even Lord Buddha
Is humbled inside, an aureole made of fairy lights,
Lit in intricate sequences.

While dappled water droplets
On leaves of a lotus plant,
Surround a purple flower, blooming
At the center. How nature too,
Raises its own colorful pandols,
Strings of fairy lights made
Of rainwater,

To rival that of man.

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