To sleep, perchance to dream
 

Sometimes
oblivion falls softly,
on a feather mattress,
the void.

Sometimes
colors, images and shapes,
meanings messages
and actions mesh
morphing
from the mundane and known
into riveting shows.

Such total trust
on Morpheus ,
the brother of Charon,
the small death,
each time
the head rests on the pillow,
demanding resurrection
in the morn

Brothers
and door keepers,
both,
to portals of adventure
and rest.