In just three short lines, this poem sets a cold, empty world against a small moment of discovery. "Ice all about" gives us a landscape with no comfort in it, hard and surrounding. Then the speaker steps into a temple, a place we expect to hold something sacred, and what they find there is not a god or an answer but "Chance."
The odd, striking part is that Chance is "drawn like a home." The word "drawn" could mean sketched, like a picture, or pulled toward, like a magnet. Either way, the speaker treats randomness as something shelter-like, a place to rest. That fits the title, "The invention of heaven," which suggests that people create heaven themselves, perhaps out of the need for warmth against the cold.
The mood is quiet, stark and a little strange. The speaker doesn't sound panicked or bitter, just calmly surprised. There's a gentle sense of finding meaning without certainty, and settling into that.