To feel that waking is another dream that dreams of not dreaming and that the death we fear in our bones is the death that every night we call a dream.

Jorge Luis Borges

The Art of Poetry

A waking dream is created - birds weave in and out through waves, escaping the mind's eye. Yet here, the moment ascends, the silence, the fall of the open space between the bird’s wings and the wind. And for one glorious instant the dream exists outside the death of waking.

Autumn Azure

The Trouble with Imagination