There are no howling winds to be found here,
not even a hushed whisper,
because where we stand lies every grain of powdery sand
that time eked out and let fall from the heavens.
We do not dare disturb this holy silence
with revelations or adorations which writhe in our mouths,
yearning to be released from parted lips.
Instead, we let our eyes rove along the myriad curves
that hug these sugar sands, and we let them
devour every glass smooth plane left behind
with a hunger that comes only at twilight.
And we do not dare to tread any further
into these folds of powdery pale yellow sands;
so we stand, rooted in place, and marvel
while the sun sets at our backs;
waiting for the stars to wake.