Then and Now

Had I one word to describe our Temple, 
The word used would undoubtedly be “white.” 
The corridors inside all glow with light, 
And purity within this space is ample. 

I don’t disparage Temples; I adore them. 
They’re lovely, and the feeling is serene 
Folk enter, and folk exit, pure and clean, 
Their righteousness a recommend before them. 

But once, Jehovah’s temples glowed with color. 
Bright scarlet pomegranates bursting high 
The acrid incense wafting to the sky 
And bleating goats, the people’s sins to cover. 

A messy Temple, this: not white, but gory 
The blood and smells and disarray its glory.