The Temple of Creed doth tremble for truth:
Its doors be ever locked and long bolted;
Its proud, storied windows securely barred.
Entry is afforded but to avowed
Members of a frightened congregation.
Lo, 'tis dim inside; the vast enclosure
Echoes with ghosts of ancient tradition.
Venture therefore across the street instead,
Where beckons the Temple of Becoming.
Strangers and friends do come and go at will.
Tho' e'er lives the risk of vandals and thieves,
The temple is bright, welcoming and warm.
Its folk attune to life's dangers and joys.
They do trust in the exquisite unknown.
They be oft visited by and commune
With the temple's living and loving gods.