Temple dancers shadow smoke,
pierce woven sunlight.
Blessings balance fierce tongues:
worship spills saffron song.
Priests prepare flowers and cloth.
Fresh flowers and food are brought.
Clanging, shouting, dark and light,
sweet sandalwood, incense burnt.
Tradition wrapped crowds chase
autumn silver throne.
Lord Shiva and Parvati are put to bed.
Something so simple . . . so beautiful.
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sometimes drawings come out like that – never know when.Sometimes
I look at a drawing and don’t remember doing it. I’m just in some zone making it.Probably like when you sing.
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oh! this is my tradition,Thank you so much for these beautiful lines you have written about my colorful country India.
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Everyone I met in Southern India I really liked. The country seemed to be full of very nice kind people. I thought at the time it was because of your tradition. It is nice to meet you. Thank you for looking at my blog. My red bag is right here at my feet!
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Actually I belong to northern India,but it makes no difference,I really enjoyed to meet you, you are very sweet Carla…. 🙂
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You said it all. I am visualizing being there.
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Hi you guys! Have you been there? You would love to see India.
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