Once upon a time, there was a piece of fluff that floated in the wind.
The fluff passes through a sunbeam, that lights it up like white fire.
It passes through a shadow, that turns it secretive and dark.
It lands on the head of a girl, next to her circlet of flowers.
She goes on to do many great things.
The fluff says, “In the sunlight, I am fire; in the darkness, a ninja; but crowning the human head, I am greatness.”
One day, the girl grew into an old woman, and lay down to sleep.
And the fluff called her forth, and they went up to Heaven,
And they were honored greatly there.
Once upon a time, there was a shadow of a dancer.
The shadow is part of a shadow play.
It dances with the other darknesses.
With the wolf shadow.
And the man shadow.
And the world shadow.
And the sun shadow, dark but limned with light.
The dancer learns to love the shadow of the sun.
She touches it, though it burns her.
She dances with it, though it frays her at the edges,
And takes many minutes of cooling darkness to recover from.
One day, the shadow of the sun sticks to her skin. As she pulls away, the shadow peels with it, and the true sun burns in the shadow play, like a spotlight.
“I cannot touch you,” she says, “but see—”
She gestures behind her, at the girl shadow cast from her by the burning sun.
“We have a child.”