from my workshop may all manner of beasts escape

the prince of embers dons his glowing crown and leaves his cave to face the leaves that flicker and dance in the sun like sparks they reflect the candor of his joyful eyes the flowers greet him as he passes he replies in kind. all about the glade the dark shrinks away troubles fade the prince would never bare his opaline blade the shadows know he does not need to. the ducks and deer and trout and bee along the bank of the river snake and dog louse and mouse will play today under the warm rainbow canopy the prince creates with his doubtless and enduring wings.

rolling out away and long rise and fall a sea of dunes, sand heaped high on magnetism and wind. the night above is soft and dark, ragged with distantly singing stars. they shine downward and the land is awash. atop each purple dune there is a stone tower, one for each star, built forever to the horizon by adoring hands, reaching always upward toward the lights. the desert is dark and quiet. the wind whispers. the stars listen.