The Temple

Like lake mist

The veil carefully

Almost  casually

Opened

To reveal the temple,

The entrance camouflaged,

But unmistakably the temple

Below the twin capped peaks

Taunting the imagination to time

The slide down the slopes, head first

Or feet first, what would it matter, and

To slip silently surely into the entrance and

Who knows what thereafter.

Stephen Nesbitt ©