My body is a temple.They marvel at the outside.
They worship when they are inside.
At the opening of mass there is a buzz of respectful silence.
At the closing of mass there is a roar of freedom.
For, although the creamy pillars
are curved and contoured,
the cracks plastered,
the doors left wide open,
they know there is only one function of a temple.
And that this church was built on patronage,
It was not built on rock.
A building has no autonomy.
A temple has no lock.