She thought she was home until the second moon appeared.

I wade through the symbols of essence unseen, by light and by shadow departing a dream, all centered inside of the self shell of me.

I may yet be forgotten by the wind in its perpetual unrest as I stand here, small and quiet, watching the waves, touching the breeze.

I stand in the midst of the whirlwind and breathe as it passes around me and through me with ease, like waves on the water, like sounds in the breeze.

Some wise men say the world is an illusion whose trappings we just can not overcome.