Sonnet: My ‘Temple’ On Earth
The pillars of my strength are three for now!
Thou art the rock on which my temple stands!
To all Thy tenets, humbly do I bow;
The construction will be with my own hands.
Let prayers make my mind draw plans with ease;
Let grace of God reinforce every brick;
Let God’s mercy help me construct in peace;
Let fear of God make my heart never sick.
The temple is my family on earth!
Outlive it must, the fury of devils;
O God, Thy blessings must not be a dearth;
Let impervious be temple to evils!
When temple’s made, thine humble servant, I
Whole-heartedly wish to Thee glorify.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Today... 'The Cornerstone
Rejected of men for being too good
we crucified you on a cross of wood
But Your Father had other plans for You
for the temple was to be built anew
A building not made of rock or of stone
but one made up of Christians alone
Built of people saved by the grace of God
the Cornerstone is Jesus Christ the Lord
A great temple not built by human skill
but made up of those who follow God's will
The living temple of Your body Lord
because its' builder and maker is God
To build it the old temple had to go
through death so that You could raise it up so.
This is marvellous in our sight O Lord
One in Christ we are the temple of God.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Body Is A Temple
They say your body is a temple, and I found
This to be true, for in my temple I found you.
I felt your soul surround me like a mist
On a foggy day, and right then I knew
That in my heart forever you would stay.
My body is a temple and
You are the foundation
you control my heart
And every sensation.
Now this temple had become a temple of two
For it belonged to me and you.
We built this temple for all the world to see
That thru love this is the way it should be.
When you’ve shared the most precious
Moments that GOD did provide
When not on all topics did we see eye to eye
When in sickness you was the comforting stone
And you know that you’re not alone.
When that temple seems to be falling apart
And you‘ve lost all hope in your heart.
When it seems like you have no other place to go
And your thoughts are moving slow
That is when you turn to the lord above
To show you how to rekindle that love.
The body is a temple and in it I found you
And with your strength I know what I have to do.
I will rebuild this temple with the love of my life
For you are my partner, my lover, my wife.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thieves In The Temple
{long version of thieves in the temple}
I'm holdin' on (i'm holdin' on) the best that i can
Love please, (let me be) let me be the better man
Better than the ones that wanna count me out
Better than the ones that don't know what my love's about
I'm talkin' 'bout the kinda love that can move a mountain
The kinda love that could part the sea
The kinda love that'll last 4 ever
(no matter what u say we should be together)
U should be with me (thieves in the temple)
Yeah, u should be with me
I said i wanna know (talk to me)
One thing (talk to me)
Said i wanna know (talk to me)
I wanna know one thing, baby (talk to me)
How come you said that i was your baby
When u and your love was gonna leave
U led me on, led me on thinkin' u was moses
Herding sheep blindly through a fantasy
U done me wrong (thieves in the temple)
And everybody knows it
Now the sound of my voice is pumpin' in your chest
More or less, i am here to tell u that
I am the best
Better than the rest
Better than the thieves in the temple tonight
Tonight, tonight, tonight, tonight, hurt me
(put it in)
Thieves in the temple
Thieves in the temple
Thieves in the temple
Thieves in the temple tonight
Put your foot on the rock
Let me show you how to clock
Put your foot on the rock
Let me show you how to clock
Thieves in the temple
(what the....?)
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
(hurt me)
Thieves in the temple
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He's Building A Taj Mahal
A deified temple of love
No matter what she says
No matter what she does
He doesn't give up
He won't give up
He's building a Taj Mahal
A deified temple of love
For a shy shadow bodiless her
Each day one more brick
She says cease from your labour
I'm not a stone
I'm not a tower
I'm not a temple
No matter what she says
No matter what she does
He keeps on building
Building a Taj Mahal
The day he's gone
The temple will vanish
A bubble burst temple of love
The day she's gone
The tower will disappear
A bubble burst temple of love
Drawn in earthly notes
Everything's written on a wind
Bubble burst blown away
A shadow for a shadow
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Holy Sonnet II: As Due By Many Titles I Resign
As due by many titles I resign
My self to Thee, O God; first I was made
By Thee, and for Thee, and when I was decayed
Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine;
I am Thy son, made with Thy Self to shine,
Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheep, thine image, and, till I betrayed
My self, a temple of Thy Spirit divine;
Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
Why doth he steal, nay ravish that's thy right?
Except thou rise and for thine own work fight,
Oh I shall soon despair, when I do see
That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
poem by John Donne
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Temple
O Lord Almighty,
In the temple of
My heart,
I pray to thee
That you’ll come to me
When the need be
In that hour of need
When I need you
And you need me.
Even if destiny wills it
For us not to make it thru.
Let it be known to you,
That no matter what be,
I’ve always belonged to thee.
In distress or happiness,
Failures and success,
You and me, me and you,
We remain together in this
Temple of love, faith and
Friendship.
From birth to death,
Reincarnation to Nirvana
Or many more lives infinity
Unto eternity…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Temples
Earth-bound providence man discovered
To make Him descend
From His invincible farther Temple
His own dwelling is a Temple
If only man desires to be
Remembering
In secret chamber of his soul
Templed is Himself
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Holy Sonnet 2
As due by many titles I resign
Myself to thee, O God, first I was made
By Thee, and for Thee, and when I was decay'd
Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine.
I am Thy son, made with Thyself to shine,
Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheep, Thine image, and—till I betray'd
Myself—a temple of Thy Spirit divine.
Why doth the devil then usurp on me?
Why doth he steal, nay ravish, that's Thy right?
Except Thou rise and for Thine own work fight,
O! I shall soon despair, when I shall see
That Thou lovest mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
poem by John Donne from Holy Sonnets
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Temple will not be completed until every living stone is there. And then what? The next thing will be that which our Masonic friends make so much of, and which we make so much of namely: the glorification of the temple.
quote by Charles T. Russell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Holy Sonnet II: As Due by Many Titles
As due by many titles I resigne
My selfe to thee, O God, first I was made
By thee, and for thee, and when I was decay'd
Thy blood bought that, the which before was thine;
I am thy sonne, made with thy selfe to shine,
Thy servant, whose paines thou hast still repaid,
Thy sheepe, thine Image, and, till I betray'd
My selfe, a temple of thy Spirit divine;
Why doth the devill then usurpe on mee?
Why doth he steale, nay ravish that's thy right?
Except thou rise and for thine own worke fight,
Oh I shall soone despaire, when I doe see
That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt'not chuse me,
And Satan hates mee, yet is loth to lose me.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Virgin Of Bethlehem
Virgin of Bethlehem! spouse of the Holy One!
Star of the pilgrim on life’s stormy sea!
Humbler thy lot was than this world’s most lowly one,
List to the prayers that we offer to thee!
Not for the joys that this false earth bestoweth,
Empty and fleeting as April sunshine,
But for the grace that from holiness floweth,
Grace, purest Mother, that always was thine.
Charity ardent, and zeal that abounded,
Thine was the will of thy Father above,
Thus thy life’s fervor so strangely confounded
Cold hearts that mocked at religion’s pure love.
Meekness in suffering, patience excelling,
Bowed thee, unmurm’ring, beneath sorrow’s rod;
Spirit of purity ever indwelling
Made thee the Temple and Mother of God.
These are the gifts that thy children implore,
With hearts warmly beating, and low bended knee;
Oh! ask of thy Son, whom we humbly adore,
To grant us the prayers that we whisper to thee.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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The Human Temple
The Temple in Darkness
Darkness broods upon the temple,
Glooms along the lonely aisles,
Fills up all the orient window,
Whence, like little children’s wiles,
Shadows—purple, azure, golden—
Broke upon the floor in smiles.
From the great heart of the organ
Bursts no voice of chant or psalm;
All the air, by music-pulses
Stirred no more, is deathly calm;
And no precious incense rising,
Falls, like good men’s prayer, in balm.
Not a sound of living footstep
Echoes on the marble floor;
Not a sigh of stranger passing
Pierces through the closèd door;
Quenched the light upon the altar:
Where the priest stood, none stands more.
Lord, why hast Thou left Thy temple
Scorned of man, disowned by Thee!
Rather let Thy right hand crush it,
None its desolation see!
List—‘He who the temple builded
Doth His will there. Let it be!’
A Light in the Temple
Lo, a light within the temple!
Whence it cometh no man knows;
Barred the doors: the night-black windows
Stand apart in solemn rows,
All without seems gloom eternal,
Yet the glimmer comes and goes—
As if silent-footed angels
Through the dim aisles wandered fair,
Only traced amid the darkness,
By the glory in their hair,
Till at the forsaken altar
They all met, and praised God there.
Now the light grows—fuller, clearer;
Hark, the organ ’gins to sound.
Faint, like broken spirit crying
Unto Heaven from the ground;
While the chorus of the angels
Mingles everywhere around.
See, the altar shines all radiant,
Though no mortal priest there stands,
And no earthly congregation
Worships with uplifted hands:
Yet they gather, slow and saintly,
In innumerable bands.
And the chant celestial rises
Where the human prayers have ceased:
No tear-sacrifice is offered,
For all anguish is appeased,
Through its night of desolation,
To His temple comes the Priest.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Temple Of Love
With the fire from the fireworks up above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain at hand
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another, but still the same
For the wind will blow my name across this land
In the temple of love you hide together
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on
Walls as wide as lovers eyes
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear my calling
In the temple of love: hear my name
And the devil in a black dress watches over
My guardian angel walks away
Life is short and love is always over in the morning
Black wind come carry me far away
With the sunlight died and night above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another, its all the same
For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside
With the fire from the fireworks up above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
I shine like thunder, cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows stronger, cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before this
Black wind calls my name to you no more
In the black sky thunder sweeping under
Ground and over water sounds of
Crying weeping will not save your
Faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave when
Stone is dust and only air remains
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear the calling
And the temple of love is falling
Down
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear my calling
In the temple of love: hear my name
In the black sky thunder sweeping under
Ground and over water sounds of
Crying weeping will not save your
Faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave when
Stone is dust and air remains the
Only haven you can trust, and the
Devil in a black dress watches over
My guardian angel walks away
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
I shine like thunder, cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows stronger, cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before this
Black wind calls my name to you no more
In the temple of love you hide together
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on
Walls as wide as lovers eyes
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear the calling
And the temple of love is falling
Down
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Temple Of Love
With the fire from the fireworks up above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain at hand
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another, but still the same
For the wind will blow my name across this land
In the temple of love you hide together
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on
Walls as wide as lovers' eyes
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear my calling
In the temple of love: hear my name
And the devil in a black dress watches over
My guardian angel walks away
Life is short and love is always over in the morning
Black wind come carry me far away
With the sunlight died and night above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain inside
You run for cover in the temple of love
You run for another, it's all the same
For the wind will blow and throw your walls aside
With the fire from the fireworks up above me
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
I shine like thunder, cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows stronger, cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before this
Black wind calls my name to you no more
In the black sky thunder sweeping under
Ground and over water sounds of
Crying weeping will not save your
Faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave when
Stone is dust and only air remains
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear the calling
And the temple of love is falling
Down
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear my calling
In the temple of love: hear my name
In the black sky thunder sweeping under
Ground and over water sounds of
Crying weeping will not save your
Faith for bricks and dreams for mortar
All your prayers must seem as nothing
Ninety-six below the wave when
Stone is dust and air remains the
Only haven you can trust, and the
Devil in a black dress watches over
My guardian angel walks away
With a gun for a lover and a shot for the pain
You run for cover in the temple of love
I shine like thunder, cry like rain
And the temple of love grows old and strong
But the wind blows stronger, cold and long
And the temple of love will fall before this
Black wind calls my name to you no more
In the temple of love you hide together
Believing pain and fear outside
But someone near you rides the weather
And the tears he cried will rain on
Walls as wide as lovers' eyes
In the temple of love: shine like thunder
In the temple of love: cry like rain
In the temple of love: hear the calling
And the temple of love is falling
Down
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intrigue
THOU art my love
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a storm
That breaks black in the sky
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl
Woe is me!
Thou art my love
And thou art a tinsel thing
And I in my play
Broke thee easily
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a weary violet
Drooping from sun-caresses.
Answering mine carelessly
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the ashes of other men's love
And I bury my face in these ashes
And I love them
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the beard
On another man's face
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a temple
And in this temple is an altar
And on this altar is my heart
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a wretch.
Let these sacred love-lies choke thee
For I am come to where I know your lies as truth
And your truth as lies
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a priestess
And in thy hand is a bloody dagger
And my doom comes to me surely
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes
And I love thee
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And I doubt thee
And if peace came with my murder
Then would I murder
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art death
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black
But I love thee
I love thee
Woe, welcome woe, to me.
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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L'envoi To "Life's Handicap"
My new-cut ashlar takes the light
Where crimson-blank the windows flare;
By my own work, before the night,
Great Overseer I make my prayer.
If there be good in that I wrought,
Thy hand compelled it, Master, Thine;
Where I have failed to meet Thy thought
I know, through Thee, the blame is mine.
One instant's toil to Thee denied
Stands all Eternity's offence,
Of that I did with Thee to guide
To Thee, through Thee, be excellence.
Who, lest all thought of Eden fade,
Bring'st Eden to the craftsman's brain,
Godlike to muse o'er his own trade
And Manlike stand with God again.
The depth and dream of my desire,
The bitter paths wherein I stray,
Thou knowest Who hast made the Fire,
Thou knowest Who hast made the Clay!
One stone the more swings to her place
In that dread Temple of Thy Worth --
It is enough that through Thy grace
I saw naught common on Thy earth.
Take not that vision from my ken;
Oh whatsoe'er may spoil or speed,
Help me to need no aid from men
That I may help such men as need!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Prayer XXIII
Then a priestess said, "Speak to us of Prayer."
And he answered, saying:
You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.
For what is prayer but the expansion of yourself into the living ether?
And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart.
And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing.
When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet.
Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion.
For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking you shall not receive.
And if you should enter into it to humble yourself you shall not be lifted:
Or even if you should enter into it to beg for the good of others you shall not be heard.
It is enough that you enter the temple invisible.
I cannot teach you how to pray in words.
God listens not to your words save when He Himself utters them through your lips.
And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains.
But you who are born of the mountains and the forests and the seas can find their prayer in your heart,
And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,
"Our God, who art our winged self, it is thy will in us that willeth.
It is thy desire in us that desireth.
It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also.
We cannot ask thee for aught, for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us:
Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all."
poem by Khalil Gibran
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A Best Emperor!
Besides poet, people birds, animals too love freedom;
Lion may be king of jungle but elephant is emperor!
This big, best emperor called gentle giant is humble
And accepts to bless devotes, escort Temple deities!
This huge animal emperor is kept as van in temple slot,
A humiliating sight to see, yet it humbly accepts the role!
For stomach satisfying food emperor surrenders, serves
And sustains with faith and gratitude to men and God!
A wonder to see freedom loving natural animal living so!
Is it a fate or destiny for the best emperor to live so here?
Child like and divine looking elephant is chiseled as God
Called as Lord Ganesha is animal, man and divine in one!
When will this big, best emperor get freedom from man
Know not, think I, whenever I see standing before Temple?
poem by Ramesh T A
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A Thanksgiving Poem
The sun hath shed its kindly light,
Our harvesting is gladly o'er
Our fields have felt no killing blight,
Our bins are filled with goodly store.
From pestilence, fire, flood, and sword
We have been spared by thy decree,
And now with humble hearts, O Lord,
We come to pay our thanks to thee.
We feel that had our merits been
The measure of thy gifts to us,
We erring children, born of sin,
Might not now be rejoicing thus.
No deed of ours hath brought us grace;
When thou were nigh our sight was dull,
We hid in trembling from thy face,
But thou, O God, wert merciful.
Thy mighty hand o'er all the land
Hath still been open to bestow
Those blessings which our wants demand
From heaven, whence all blessings flow.
Thou hast, with ever watchful eye,
Looked down on us with holy care,
And from thy storehouse in the sky
Hast scattered plenty everywhere.
Then lift we up our songs of praise
To thee, O Father, good and kind;
To thee we consecrate our days;
Be thine the temple of each mind.
With incense sweet our thanks ascend;
Before thy works our powers pall;
Though we should strive years without end,
We could not thank thee for them all.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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o! O!
on temple
god was cry
at mid night
why the god cry...?
i don't no...
why you are crying..?
i am asking god
god say simply
i don't no
o...
god was cry to
trying...
on the temple
for today world...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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