The King’s Kingdom

When meeting someone new

The question almost always comes

Where are you from?

I hardly know how to respond

I spent my childhood in Utah

My adolescence in Kansas 

High school in Michigan

College in Utah

Ohio, Nebraska, Ohio

So where am I from?

What place do I hail from and from whence was I hewn?

I am from her place. 

My vibrant, bright and loving grandmother’s home. 

I am from her house. 

The land of my people smells delicious 

Two trays of rhodes dinner rolls in the oven 

At least two meats presented with a gravy boat 

Wanda cookies baked with an abundance of love

The scents of warmth and care 

Wafting around, inviting all to partake

I’m from a place of music and rich sounds.

Carols sung around an aging piano during Christmas 

The deep, operatic voice of my grandfather 

The radio always on when no one is there to hear it

Voracious laughter and playful conversation 

The continual companions to the ear.

The phone calling to her hourly 

Her voice reminding you she is praying for you

Loving you, reminding you to be your best self.

Our language is rooted in faith 

Spoken loudly with an inviting cadence 

A limited vocabulary is available 

For response to a query of wellness  

The proper response is traditionally translated as “ I’m fine”

My country is green, lush and inviting.

A long driveway hugged by a row of perfectly tended roses 

Ushers you into the King’s kingdom 

A garden bursting with the world’s sweetest peas 

Peaches drip like rain, turning the grass to sticky mush

The cherry tree, the Brutus of this land, repentant of it’s betrayal

Gives apologetic shade to every backyard inhabitant. 

Each holiday is markedly recognized by this tiny nation. 

The lawn adorned with whirly gigs and all manner of decor

The trusty and fashionable stone goose festively enrobed 

A tiny trinket on every available spot 

dutifully reminding one of what holiday is being honored 

Cups run deep with candy and chocolate

My people are a kind, hardy group

Each of our number treasured by our blessed matriarch and patriarch 

An heritage of love and lineage of strength gifted to us from her and from him 

The nation of kings pieced together 

With indescribable love 

My land now belongs to another 

Our king and queen returned to their original home, returned to one another 

At times, I ache to return to my native country

I am from her place, but really, I am from her 

 I see her woven deeply into my people 

I am sustained by them, scattered we may be

What gratitude of mine it  is to be hers