Sparkles on the night ocean

We had a hard frost yesterday morning, and everywhere I looked there was beauty.  Weeds, dead leaves, feathers -- all were edged with white sparkles. As I wandered happily around the yard, snapping pictures, I came upon our statue of St. Francis. The statue is black, and has a way of disappearing into the shadows of the dune grass, so I was enchanted to see the way the hard edges of the frost gave definition to the tenderness of the sculpture; his hair, his cowl, and the trust of the bird and bunny -- a lovely illustration of yesterday's poem in Coleman Barks' A Year With Rumi:

"We are the night ocean filled 
with glints of light. We are the space
between the fish and the moon,
while we sit here together."