"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Monday, August 15, 2016

THE TEMPLE

In the midst of a patchwork
Of orchards, farms and gardens -
Carefully cultivated lands
Set on rolling hills
Breathed at the beginning of time
By the spirit of the one true god -
There was a splendid temple.
Two rivers flowed
Through the purlieus
Ample water
For the sons and daughters
Of the hinterland –
Fruit, vegetables, cereal crops,
Herds and flocks -
And leafy trees and wildflowers
Of this most fortunate country.
The rivers were also home
To many species of fish,
Swimming in such abundance
That the riches of the land
Seemed almost redundant.
Somewhere, far away,
These streams spilled
Into the sea –
An ocean shining
On the edge of the world.
Despite the landscape’s marvels
Its majesty was surpassed
By the sacred magnificence
Of the temple buildings.
Walls of bright yellow sandstone,
Carved from mountains
In the deserts
Of less prosperous nations.
Olive green ivy,
Clinging to columns,
Defined the portico.
Between the creepers
There were decorative emblems
Of gold and turquoise,
And pictures of another heaven,
Framed by onyx and lapis lazuli.
The main doors were made of cedar
And their jams were bejewelled with jade.
In the centre of the sanctuary
Bdellium burned day and night,
Sending its perfume into the vast chamber,
Fragrant like myrrh,
Incense for a king.


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