The fire is lighted
the smoke of the flame spreads
like fingers groping,
tickling, touching
even the hidden and hardest fibers.
The prayer is uttered
like lotus flowers
opening their petals
on the lake.
Words form in circles-
heated, condensed,
evaporated, turning into gas
invisible to human eyes
and yet audible to the ears
of the Great Creator.
The fragrance of a flower,
though in tact or crushed,
fills the air and lungs
and precipitates joy in the heart.
The fragrance gets purified
in the fire of growth
and in the hands of prayer.
Such a fragrance of virtue
rises up to the mighty heavens
from whom beauty
was once designed.
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