Poetry

 

The Temple that never closes
Is built on a foundation of light.

It has extricated itself
From familial and tribal loyalties;
It has excavated its basement
Of bad memories, failed policies, and the small.

Its doors remain open –
All can see out and in.

The Temple that never closes,
Is Noah’s Ark finally come aground.
The place where form, and the space between the atoms,
Celebrate and share the soundless sound.
(Where silence is respected,
& Life’s Arc is revealed.)

The Temple that never closes
Is awash with new possibility.
It is a sanctuary for hope,
A nursery for the next, great solution,
The Samaritan without borders,
Embedded within uninterrupted success.

The Temples that open and close are leaving this land.
They have completed their ministry.
They have protected the infirm, cultivated sociality,
And been the glue: (But sadly through their exclusivity, they have added to the insanity).
So in their place, now emerge,
The Temples that never close.

In the Temple that never closes,
Man worships God, and God worships Man.
In Godkind, Mankind finds its hydroponic roots.
In Womenkind and Mankind,
God runs free.

Congregations have been downsized
In the temples that never close.
Congregations now number 1.
This is the one and only law of the temple.
It is the Law of One.
In the whole, is the holy.

A Minion is achieved when love, gratitude,
equality, and light are present and accounted for.
The Arc is opened when we call our SELF into order.

The Temples that never close
Have feet and hands, and eyes and ears.
They laugh and walk, and talk among us.
They have infiltrated past the sentries of fear and separation,
And inveigled their way into our very hearts and DNA.
Their Arks have been loosed,
And their treasures now replenish a thirsty land.

Your membership remains
Wholly a matter of personal choice;
Though it promises you,
YOUR perfect seat . . .
In the Temple that never closes

Thanksgiving 2005