The Temple at the Shore

"Could the sun be a summit kindled
by the wild fires in a sculptor's hands?"
Thoughtful, I stood at the temple dwindled
by the majesty of those rocks and sands -
rocks that had melted in the face of art,
sands that had risen from the ocean's heart.

A temple at the shore, waking white tides;
raking sapphires off the glossy skies!
Silence at the altar, shadows at sides -
could the shrine be more than met the eyes?
I stood at the altar swindled of belief -
the temple was souls cast into relief.

This wonder bestirred a walk to the sun -
wanting, I shed myself at the reef.
Soul found sanctuary in the horizon;
body at the altar, a shrinking leaf.
Salvation, the ascent to the peak of thought -
the sun, a summit kindled by art.