The dome of that ancient temple speaks to me every night. It is lucky to have a shape that facilitates absorption from both above and below, and retention inside. The sun, moon and stars whisper stories in it ears, changing its look with their movement across the sky.
The dome has seen priests, wily devils and poor, hapless humans all pray inside. A part of it sheds tears every day, with all that it hears and sees. It shares secrets with me, when it can hold no more.
I am the wind that
does not blow it to pieces
but touches it to share
we have been friends throughout
the ages and centuries
Inspired by Secretkeeper at
(5) Words: | ABOVE | ANCIENT | PART | DEVIL | POOR |