My Beloved

My Beloved sits still

in pink granite and feathery lichen.

Up the winding, moss-soft trail

with muffled footsteps

where I once traversed.

How can it be another’s land?

How can it be so far away?

Yet remain vibrant in color

and depth within my mind’s eye.

Daddy gave this place to me.

He set the table of care

and feeding of a dream,

a desire, a place.

A place deep in my heart

where yearning makes

room for gratitude

and radical acceptance.

A place that holds my collection

of sparkly baubles made of memory.

Baubles strung on gossamer tendrils that

catch the golden light of sunset’s glow.

My Beloved sits still within me.

–K.Kinsley-Momberger