Before the Film Begins

Rolling into bed-n-blankets; I turn to ensure that my pen, journal and sketchbook are beside my bed. My dream-companions need me, as much as I need them. they need my imagination and its wanderings, to spill upon their pages, like water droplets, cascading into a wandering river. At some point, I will awake and pour my dreams onto the white abyss; my pen will sing and sketch universes from the dreamtime realms; My soul will bubble with elation. Such treasures, perused time and again; Will birth myriads of heart-songs.