I stand marvelling in his temple,
As I dream of his many prophecies.
A form so exquisite and timeless,
In his abode, he is glorious and radiant.
He dreams of splendid wonders,
Myriad as the worlds he traverses.
As he sings in languages countless,
The stars, they only sing his praises.
He rides fierce beasts into the night,
Their fury he tames without hindrance.
He runs across uncharted forests,
Wildflowers bloom and wither at his wake.
He nestles among those equally divine,
His companions mighty and elegant.
In their presence and desire he revels,
Yet to which he never succumbs.
He is strong of form and unwavering,
A force, mighty and immutable.
Not one that dares oppose him,
With his vigor all evil he quells.
He commands forces versatile, just as strong,
Their powers, formless and adaptable.
He is gentle and calm, cool and serene,
Yet also swift and mighty, glacial and sharp.
He knows no resentment or spite,
With his charm, he merely illuminates.
That admirers gasp in his splendor,
And adversaries only consumed by his ardor.
I stand marvelling in his temple,
His prophecies ring in my ears.
Is this a gaze into mirrors of glory,
Or merely a dream of his magnificence?
