Last night a few dreams, a mixed-up hodge podge, I awoke to write them down, but saw no meaning in them; I was tired, they were random and chaotic, I didn't turn on the light and fell back asleep.
So I'll write of another dream once I had, an old dream - animated in rich blues and amber. It made an impression.
I am a point of view at sea, no substance, only my senses, flying, there is a tempest and from the waves rise up waterspouts that meet with the low and ragged clouds, then turn into Atlanteans, briefly, bearing the sky upon their shoulders, and then rain back, falling into the sea. I am flying through this, it is animated, deep blues, flashes of lightning illuminate the denizens of the deep, translucent jellyfish and giant shadows swarming beneath. As a wave subsides I move in, there is a ship spinning in a trough between the waves, an old galleon, timbers lit from within like logs on a fire, hot embers and glowing salamanders flicker upon the surface. I move into the cabin, there a small chest, a treasure, as I approach it opens, and within it on a velvet lining there is a silver hand holding a pen. It is almost too brilliant to behold..
I awake.
An interesting link on how television shapes our dreams: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/main.jhtml?view=DETAILS&grid=&xml=/earth/2008/10/17/scidream117.xml