I start reading from "A year in my Garden" by Karel Capek, and let the Moody Blues fill my ears with The Dream.
I quote my mother, who keeps assuring me, "We will get by this time too,---I think."
The Dream ( Graeme Edge )
The browns, reds and golds of autumn lie in the gutter, dead.
Remember then, that summer birds with wings of fire flaying
Came to witness springs new hope, born of leaves decaying.
Just as new life will come from death, love will come at leisure.
Love of love, love of life and giving without measure
Gives in return a wondrous yearn of a promise almost seen.
Live hand-in-hand and
together we'll stand on the threshold of a dream.