I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
did wander darkling in the eternal space.
George G Byron
Echoes of a distant past smothered by cold and unrelenting winds.
This foreboding moment made me recall the old ledgers of
memory and the words of John Bunyan:
"Farewell, I wish our souls may meet with comfort at the journey's end."
Dreams rarely sojourn in the chambers of our coherent mind.
They disintegrate and fall gently back like ashes
over the fields of unconsciousness.
In certain hope we find them reborn upon our next visit.