On any blank canvas
Black and empty,
As the night sky
Can never be

A picture forms
I sketch my dreams
An image’s displayed
Reality undissolves

My idea resolves
The dream becomes
Their story unfolds
A, this, new idea

I, we, see the form
on a formless stage
Perceive the substance
on some insubstantial page

Once the midnight void
Invites sub-particular light
Then can raindrops reign
And there can/will be no night

On occasion of a cat sleeping on my arms