The Dune and the Mirror, 1996

The dune awoke in moonlight, its voice a thread of wind-blown sand rising through the night and whispering.

“Moon, stay and rest. The morning will come not gray but filled with stars. There, I would lie beneath the cool touch of your white hand. So gentle beneath quiet silver. My sands dance on breaths of wind, shimmering veils graced in your light.”

“Dune, I fly in that wind which shaped you. You see a mirror that passes, shining through the night.”

“Moon, you are the one exquisite light, cool, gentle, gracing all in shades of gray. Day comes brilliant, and you and my dream will fade.”

“Dune, do you not see me? A mirror reflecting the light we are born of. We are born in that light, it was born in first light and moment, when God created time and place.

I am as all things have been, as they are, and will be—a mirror reflecting the light of creation, shining across the infinite.”