Dreams rarely incorporate stimuli from the sleeper’s immediate environment…
Yet ever so often, a dream does seem to absorb information coming in from outside.
In a recent dream…
I’m in a peaceful, isolated, rural location. No one else is around.
I enter a railway car that has a long row of “portholes” recessed into its ceiling.
I hear a woman’s voice intone the soft lines of a poem. I climb a ladder to begin opening the portholes. The poem continues as I move my hand over the glass surface of the first porthole.
Before having that dream, I’d woken in the early morning and remained awake for several minutes. To help ease myself back into sleep, I put on the headphones and began listening to a poetry CD.
The poetry of At Blackwater Pond, by Mary Oliver, is both gentle and blunt, refined and earthy—sublimely animistic. This recording has gently drifted me into sleep on several occasions.
This time, my dream world apparently incorporated the spoken poetry. That would seem natural. However, since it’s only happened once…
…I believe the dream used the poetry purely as a symbol—
—a symbol I felt no pressure to understand. After all, there’s no problem in this dream—this is dream of peace. Unlike so many of my other dreams, this dream tells me that I’m on the right path.