I look forward to experiencing the changes in the temple ceremony that have been written about in the Salt Lake Tribune this week. In honor of that, I share this poem, written in 2011, about the temple experience. 
Sacred Home
Through the lace I touch soft evidence
of deeper meaning, like the veiled face
of a bride who sees life end and yet begin
and yet continue, called to follow
in the steps of all the brides who ever
promised. We are all brides, male or female,
old, young, layered with water, oil,
robed in carefully marked clothing,
all invited to the wedding
if we trust, submit, and enter
into death that raises us to life: eternal.
All adorned with covenant bows,
like knots of willing hands in clasp
that won’t be broken, tying together
hearts, minds, souls, and strengths.
We feel the sheer white curtains billow
in the breeze of whispered sacraments.
Our spirits hear; our lips give answer: truth.
As my hand rests on the altar,
on the lace-clothed stretch of velvet
where our hands hold to each other
as our eyes each hold the other,
seeing, as in endless mirrors,
end, beginning, all-encompassed
by our story; by the sacred word: forever.
by Lisa Bolin Hawkins
Sisterly Kindness 