Temple

There is a a temple inside emptiness,
a softer space within space
where darkness sheathes its secret
wealth of brilliance.
Here is where the world comes from,
and many things too beautiful for the world
until we imagine them.
For that temple is imagination.
Yes, yes, I know, there is only One,
but God loves reflections.
She becomes He, He becomes many.
Within-ness mirrors its face
in countless frowns and smiles
of utter bewilderment
all singing the name of their own
hidden splendor.
You must be very quiet to hear
the pillow talk between the chambers
of your own heart.
You and I? We first met in the Unborn.
We touched, and I think
the green earth tumbled
from our burning fingers.