We All Have Temples

We all have temples and they're all in our heads.
They are intersections and delicateness.
Not a vital organ, not like the brain
but you'd notice if one of yours got mislaid.
We all have temples, we're all the same.

We all have temples and they're of the Sikh.
Gurdwaras offer welcome, regardless of creed.
Walk in through any of the entrances four
because serving humanity is at their core.
We all have temples and they all have doors.

We all have temples and they're everywhere
They provide protection in the face of despair.
When obsenity seems to be gaining ground,
look for the helpers, they'll be all around.
We all have temples, we're altogether bound.

(Explanation: On 13/11/2015, Paris was hit by terrorist attacks in which more than 100 people died. It was horrific and I'm sure it still is and will forever be for those who were directly affected by it. There were two shining lights for me in the midst of all the horror:

1. I read a quote, attributed to Fred Rogers, that was shared on social media:

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.""

2. The hashtag #PorteOuverte trended on Twitter so people needing help in the crisis would be connected with those who were willing to open their doors and provide that help. It just shows how humanity wins out even in the most dire of circumstances. I read a tweet, from @RohanSinghKalsi, letting people know that the Sikh temples were open to anyone needing shelter. I was moved by this and my subsequent research into the Sikh's open-door policy at all times. But, I was further moved by Rohan's reaction to all the positive messages his tweet received: "Sikhs are here to serve humanity at all times."

I will be passing both of these quotes and the wisdom they contain on to my children.)

The Fault Of The Fairies

Her claims don't much alter, there's not one that varies
from the story that it was the fault of the fairies.
Straight after a bang or a shattering sound
she'll say she thinks little folk must be around,
the far-flung remains of a dolly dismembered
she explains by the invisible wand of the offender,
a tent made of tape, wrapping paper and strings
is when she insists she heard very small wings,
marker on walls showing sunny beach scenes
leads her to elfin tracks that only she sees.

When your suggestion is that it's the work of a child
she'll say, "I don't do messing, I'm nearly five."