Temple Hymn

These are steps
and this is a wall
and that,
well that is a door.

Reach your hand out.
Feel it’s wood grain beneath
every one of your fingers.
This is not your door.

And as the rain starts
you beat on it
like a drum,
like the downpour on the black asvault,
like a large skin drum.

But it won’t open.
Not for you.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Temple Hymn

  1. I keep thinking about this poem. It reminds me of one of Edna St. Vincent Millay’s sonnets (in theme/content, not form or style), the one that ends “A ghost in marble of a girl you knew/ Who would have loved you in a day or two.” All of which is to say, this is a very nice, tightly crafted poem. I’m impressed, and I wish that I had written it (about the highest compliment I can offer).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s