Singing in the Stone Temple at the Top of the World

Malta
Singing at the temple, on the mountain, at the top of the world
watching waters, an unbelievable navy blue
with flecks of orange jewels
a group of friends, sit
absorbed in its cool beauty
our hearts one heart, our soul one soul, our minds,
in a gentle flow rippling towards one goal

Singing in a room of stone
every inch sculpted
by the hands of a group so small yet so huge
unfathomable the laughter, the love, the whisper of words
both silent and spoken in that room
in the temple, on the mountain, at the top of the world

temples made in the shape of a goddess
two rounded forms and head laying rested on her elbow
voluptuous entry out from the womb and into a world
what is this mystery behind her powerful yet gentle form?
what is this pale, deep, effulgent, infinite blue?