Welcome,
Dear one.
When you're ready and it's comfortable for you,
Close your eyes.
You are stepping out of the ordinary world now,
And you are stepping into a place that feels as though it exists somewhere between earth and sky.
The air here is still,
Yet alive with a quiet hum.
A presence you can feel more than hear.
Before you,
An arched wooden gate stands partly open,
Carved with delicate patterns of lotus blossoms,
Moons,
And flowing water.
Beyond it lies the temple garden.
You step through.
Stone paths wind gently through a lush,
Green sanctuary.
The scent of night-blooming jasmine drifts on the breeze.
Lanterns hang from branches overhead,
Their warm glow dancing across the leaves.
Somewhere nearby,
Water trickles into a shallow pool.
The sound is soothing,
Like a lullaby sung by the earth itself.
Your steps are slow.
Each one feels like a prayer.
A way of saying,
I am here.
I belong here.
You pass under an arbor heavy with wisteria.
The purple blossoms sway gently,
Brushing your shoulder as you walk by.
At the heart of the garden,
You find it.
The temple.
It is small and built of smooth stone,
Its roof curved like the wings of a bird in flight.
Incense smoke curls from a bronze burner at the entrance,
Carrying a scent of sandalwood and myrrh.
You step inside,
And the stillness deepens.
The air is cool and fragrant.
Candles line the walls.
Their flames are dancing in quiet devotion.
In the center of the room rests a simple altar,
A single white lotus floating in a crystal bowl of water.
You kneel on a cushion before it.
Your breath begins to match the rhythm of the water's gentle ripples.
The weight of the day dissolves,
Slipping away like mist in the morning sun.
You feel it then,
A subtle warmth.
As if the very walls of this temple are holding you,
Blessing you,
Reminding you that you are part of something vast,
Something beautiful.
After a while,
You lie down on a low bed,
Tucked into the far corner.
Its sheets are smelling faintly of lavender and sunlight.
Through an open window,
The night air drifts in,
Carrying the song of crickets and the rustle of garden leaves.
The candles burn low.
The water still whispers,
And you,
You are ready to sleep.
Let the garden keep watch.
Let the temple hold your dreams.
I will count you gently into rest.
Ten.
The air is soft against your skin.
Nine.
Your breath is slow.
And steady.
Eight.
The fragrance of jasmine surrounds you.
Seven.
Your muscles loosen,
Melting into the bed.
Six.
The flicker of candle soothes your mind.
Five.
The garden's peace flows through your heart.
Four.
Each breath carries you deeper inward.
Three.
The night embraces you completely.
Two.
You are weightless,
Drifting.
One.
You are asleep,
Dreaming now,
Wrapped in the temple's blessing,
Carried by the quiet garden night.
Good night,
Dear one.
Good night.
