a temple
is a house
a shelter
a home
a vessel
that carries
a source
an abode
of light
or of dark
a place
to be filled
with wine
or with oil
or with gold
or goodwill
who lives
in your chapel,
your cave
or your den?
whose tables
are trading?
whose purses
are filled?
what pours
from the mouth
of your earthenware
vase?
Is it rivers
of life
or the waft
of decay?
the tables
will turn
should the Master
arrive
upsetting
the merchants
of bad
enterprise
restoring
true order
and making
things new
the waking
of morning
the touch of
fresh dew
a temple
is a garden
of blissful
delight
the fruits
of a forest
beyond
reach of night
the sweetness
of honey
that flows
from a rock
a mirror
Shechina
whose depths
we unlock