Treasure Island

veeraiyah subbulakshmi


The Holy Home


The fire in front of me not wild,
But infused with ghee and dried wood,
Adding of healthy herbs and sandal,
The smoke of confidence emerge as the clouds,
Thousand and eight times of repeated names,
Inviting of good things into the abode,
The clothes, coins and shell of stubbornness discarded,
The holy fire starts to grow and glow in the mental desert,
The pots of water scented and sprinkled with flowers,
Tied of the holy thread to keep the desire contented,
Offering of bursting rice flakes into the gallows of emotions,
The intensity of fire in the places may differ,
But guiding the fire to grow and glow is not simple.

Submitted: Monday, November 04, 2013
Edited: Monday, November 04, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Please read Homam in wikipedia.

Comments about this poem (The Holy Home by veeraiyah subbulakshmi )

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  • Tirupathi Chandrupatla (11/7/2013 8:28:00 AM)

    I would like to see confidence solid as a rock not as smoke. Intention of creating fire may be good but we seem to burn lot of fuel to gain little. You explained the process beautifully. Thank you. (Report) Reply

  • Savita Tyagi (11/7/2013 8:01:00 AM)

    But guiding the fire to grow and glow is not simple. It really is a work of life time. Havan taken as metaphor depicts beautifully the process of balancing our inner being with outer world. Beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Aftab Alam Khursheed (11/6/2013 8:01:00 AM)

    Beautiful poems about ' Havan' See we feel suffocation with smoke but the things as you wrote soothes, no suffocation so the poem lovely thank you (Report) Reply

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