Today’s Prompt is to write a poem about a specific, everyday sort of location.
Temple of Beauty
by Beth Weaver-Kreider
I feel like an intruder in these halls of Beauty,
where the mirrors reflect each other to infinity,
and priestesses murmur dreams and blessings
into the hair of the seekers, where the smell
of exotic fruits and rare blooms mingle
with the (al)chemical tang of the unguents
and oils with which they anoint their acolytes.
I make my pilgrimage several times each year,
and perhaps it is my erratic attendance
that fills me with discomfort, the sense of not belonging
to this church of possibility, of transformation.
Yet, when I walk out the temple doors
I too am transmuted, changed,
the blessings dripping from my head
as I shake my hair in the autumn breeze.
1. Balmy weather
2. Our new neighbors are kindred spirits
3. The red Japanese maple out back
4. Sometimes actually knowing where the Yes goes, where the No goes, and how to hold the space between the two. I am grateful for all those who are helping me to practice.
5. The leathery red leaves of the little oak out back
May we walk in Beauty!