Where Dreams Drink Light

She rests with her eyes closed, not in sleep, but in listening— to water remembering the sky, to color learning how to breathe. Her face dissolves into ripples of thought, a mirror where petals drift like forgotten wishes. The river holds her gently, as if it knows her name by heart. Beside her, a small black guardian waits— eyes wide with wonder, tail curled in quiet magic. It watches the boundary between worlds, where innocence keeps the door open and dreams are brave enough to surface. Here, nothing rushes. Here, imagination kneels to drink, and the soul, unafraid, reflects itself back as light.