Sitting in front of 3 piles of pages. Typed and hand scratched words look like festival litter on a green grass field. Each separated by invisible walls of subject matter. I move a stack in front of me; slowly focusing on the jumbled words, sailing into the scene like an actor preparing for a part. As I rock back and forth, deep into the act, I pray for fresh ideas to appear, a star to lead me into the next act. Good idea swims by. Caught it! Bad idea sinks away. Then nothing, stuck in the scene. Frozen in time. 

Move to the next stack. Repeat process.

This is how I felt last night working on 3 songs at once. Fun and rewarding; the old take a trip without leaving farm feeling. I felt like I had a remote in my hand going from movie to movie. 

Reminded me of this poem by Ralph Garnier Coole, Riding At Night.

Riding at Night

Ralph Garnier Coole 

On and on through the silent night,

 Under the sky with its tranquil light

 Of stars that are smiling and blinking bright—

   Riding...just riding along ...

 Up the hill and over the rise;

 Can't see the trail but my horse is wise;

 He knows where the hidden hill-trail lies;

    Riding...just riding along...

 A flicker of fire from his steel-shod feet,

 As the hoof-beats ring and the rocks repeat—

Easy, boy! Easy! Now keep your feet;

    Riding...just riding along...

 Out of the stillness, faint and small,

 The lean, gray hunters of midnight call,

 And the querulous echoes rise and fall;

    Riding...just riding along...

 The trail of a meteor streaks the sky,

 And drops in the void of the dusk to die,

 And I gaze as I wonder, "Where—and Why?"

    Riding...just riding along...

 The jingle of rein-chains seems to be

 Singing a song of peace to me;

 A song of the range where a man is free...

    Riding...just riding along...

 And the white moon rising above the gap,

 Smiles on the world in its quiet nap,

 Dreaming away in old Nature's lap;

    Riding...just riding along...

 Then the crest of the range is a rose-lit height,

 As the dawn leaps after the fading night,

 And we're back in camp with the morning light;

 Riding...just riding along...