Shelter in a Moonlit Temple

My third eye’s the only one that doesn’t need corrective lenses,

And I’m betting that I’m spending a little too much attention

On the rocks thrown at the church of my creations and inventions,

But I’m in the last pew just trying to focus on my blessings.

And I don’t fully believe, everything the priest proclaims,

And the rock throwers outside, no, they’re not fully to blame,

Optimism clashes when another stone thrown crashes with the doubters throwing rocks, breaking windows during masses,

I know its all a vision I see through my clearest lens,

I built this church from the ground up, it is mine to defend,

And if it’s all in my head, I focus less upon the doubting

and the shouting from outside my inner spirit’s sacred housing,

In my mind’s temple the lights-go-out, in an instant-silence;

No more broken glass falling, no more riots, no more violence,

Just a silent harmony between my eyes and moonlit-panes

Now the rock throwers are gone, stained-glass all back in their frames,

Then my other two eyes opened, focus, breath, peace of mind maintained,

I’m no longer in a church, but I’m on my couch,

I unfolded my legs, stood, then I blew the candle out,

turned off all the other lights, and smiled at the bright moonlight,

Shining through my kitchen window, like a vessel through the night. -RSM

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