We go to the temple.
At first: silence.
Finally silence - not just silence,
but silence full of expectation and alertness.
Silence to listen, to hear and to feel.
To experience the power, that reduces
the present, the past and the future, the beyond and this world
to what they are allowed to be at the most: symbolic terms
that only let us suspect how incomplete and fragmentary
they fill our life without fulfilling it,
can determine us, but not liberate us.
To open ourselves to the power that unites mind and heart,
that can lead us closer to the truth within us, the world and behind all things.
That can take our momentary fears and longings,
our fleeting happiness and unhappiness into a new healing light,
can reconcile us with ourselves,
can heal us and is therefore: holy.
Immerse ourselves in a world where all searching is allowed to pause for a moment,
and everything found seems excitingly strange and can be rediscovered.
We go to this temple, which is only sacred by what is practiced and experienced in it,
no matter how profane it may seem on its own.
We go to this temple, whether together or each for oneself,
(in the end, in deeplistening, all alone), which can bring God closer to our lifes
more than all words alone can ever do, and which remains/resonates in us
even when we leave.
We go to the temple, the temple of music, Finally, music.
Melodies become temples of worship.
A temporary home, a resting place, is found in hymns and
in communal memories of worship in sacred places.
No more words required - except - thank God for the gift of music!
25.11.2023