The temple priest

In the temple of my frame,

I am the sole temple priest.

I scrape and scrub

Every filth and scum

To fashion from the rough

A luminous empty space.

At this mysterious alcove,

I wait with bated breath

For the return of my Lord-

A promise made in Heaven.

I stand guard night and day,

Many an impostor I chase away.

Separated from my Beloved;

Years, I spend in mourning:

With a heart full of yearning,

I await His homecoming.

Neither sun nor moon can imitate

The splendor of His divine light.

At times, darkness comes upon me

When I forget and fall asleep.

Then I wake up in a fright,

Heartbroken from a sickening thought -

“Did He visit when I was asleep?

Or could it be that I failed to know

The many times He came into my sight?

Was I so smitten by the world

That I recognized neither His Face nor Word?”

In panic I set upon to cleanse,

The murkiness of my inner lens.

At last I raze the weedy fence

To let in some light and sense.

Then I stand guard yet again

Braving every storm and rain

To glance upon my Beloved’s face.