Heaven Is

Not built of stone round temples grand
where mighty Gods eternal stand,
Nor in fine lines of poetry
that capture His divinity;
Not in a painting, nor a song,
though in these arts such grace may throng;
Not in the vaults of sacred halls
where pious men to prayer are called,
Nor in the vast and endless sky
above the firmament espied;
Not under rocks, nor in deep pools,
in words of wise men, nor of fools;
Not in the dark, nor light of day,
nor in between where shadows play.
I find my Heaven in your eyes
where all of my own prayers reside.