The Temple That Walks
When the world fell silent...
I heard the floor of my heart creak
Its doors opening to wind... and memory.
No stone held this frame
No pillar rose from ground holding...
Only breath…
And the faint hum, of what endures.
Here... in this temple
Incense is not burned, but lived.
Every kindness, every grief...
A bell that rings the air clear again.
And if I meet another traveler
Their eyes become my altar flame...
Their silence, a psalm.
So do I walk
Temple upon temple...
Footsteps, consecrating dust to light.
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