Living Altars

I give my grief to altars
Spread about different
parts of my life—
the magical forest
of meditative walks or beaches
where footprints last until next rainfall
or the altar in meditation rooms that hold
memorabilia of loves lost.

Then there’s my office altar
of my beloved cannine Spunky,
his brown wooden box beneath
blue collar. He was taken from me
last December 1st,
in my arms, on my bed,
gone naturally.

His last breath as vivid as
this computer screen. His altar
bears white flowers sent
by my daughter Regine, beside a photo
of us both. Energetically
one can see how we needed
and loved one another.

Altars help to keep our beloveds alive—
tidbits of memories like fuel for our hearts,
oh how they can all live forever if we let them!

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By Diana Raab. Published in The Soloquist, February 2026