CALL ME BELOVED

Tell me that snow-covered hill
blends perfectly into clear sky –
that I was right to be breathless
when morning horizon vanished
into a clean page, empty canvas

Tell me that love doesn’t vanish,
that it has a comfortable seat in
some cosmic waiting room, one
ear listening for that right name
to be called out, ready to return

Tell me that it is never too late –
that the nightmares are all gone
but the dreams are real, always,
tell me how things will work out
and mean it, no furtive glances –

Tell me what happens after the
happily-ever-afters, tell me that
the stories keep going – tell me
how endings are only beginnings;
another author picks up the pen