Dreams are the canvas without paint,
absent of color and faces until the eyes
recede into a vapored transport lifting
the emotions onto a highway of visions.
Favorable winds carry us to lands
unreachable during day; hovering over
the distance there is a gentle settling
into safety without care for time.
When the portal closes and awake wrestles
down sleep, the places and people fade,
though wait patiently for the next visit
when the eyes close for the night.
Roger Singer 