In the heart of Reno, where the mountains rise,  

Stands a sacred Temple beneath the endless skies.  

The Reno Nevada Temple, a beacon of grace,  

Eighty-first of its kind, a holy, hallowed place.  

On April’s bright morn in nineteen ninety-nine,  

A vision was born, pure and divine.  

With hearts full of hope, the ground was kissed,  

On July twenty-fourth, a moment not to be missed.  

Rex D. Pinegar stood, hands raised in prayer,  

As earth was consecrated with utmost care.  

From dust to light, the building would bloom,  

A Temple of peace, dispelling all gloom.  

In April of two-thousand, the doors opened wide,  

With joy in each heart, the Temple cried.  

“Come, see this haven, where spirits can soar,  

For within these stone walls, we’re bound to adore.”  

Then came the Prophet, Thomas S. Monson,  

With words that uplifted, and blessings that shone.  

A dedication sacred, where souls are entwined,  

In covenants made, and true peace we find.  

The granite of Sharon, gray and serene,  

Clad the Temple’s exterior, a sight so pristine.  

A spire reaches skyward, the Angel Moroni,  

A Temple of promise, as we strive and we rise.  

Within this great Temple, a refuge of light,  

Two sealing rooms whisper of love’s purestight.  

Instruction rooms open with wisdom to share,  

A baptistry’s waters, a sanctified prayer.  

At five thousand, one hundred, and ninety-five feet,  

We find solace and beauty, where heaven and earth meet.  

This Temple stands tall, a herald of grace,  

Uniting our hearts in a sacred embrace.  

O Reno Nevada, in your grandeur we see,  

A testament of faith, for you, and for me.  

In the sacred stillness, our spirits align,  

In this hallowed abode, our hearts intertwine.