What are dreams exactly made of? Imagination, real life apprehension, subconscious mind, spiritual domain? I can’t get last night’s dream out of my head. It was bazaar and strange, at the same time, very peaceful. Fantasy world; the sun shining brightly onto a bay surrounded by land flourishing with vividly colored plants, young trees growing out of the middle of the ocean and strange creatures swimming around them. I’m a visitor, relaxing and enjoying this pleasant day. On a small beach a few others are also savoring the beauty. I find myself on a white ship. The ship tips over, but it’s all right. I pick myself up and begin walking on the water. I think how strange it is to walk on liquid surface, and that Jesus must of felt the same way. I’m walking towards my childhood friend, who’s sitting on a small raft. I sit next to her. My legs submerge in the clear ocean, and I notice friendly turtles swimming and singing tunes the way dolphins do. The turtles have soft outer shells, almost like the tops of forest mushrooms. They are light in color and silky to the touch. I feel content. I know this place well, like I’ve been here before. I linger in the middle of the ocean for a while, admiring the vast beauty thriving all around. I’m part of the picture, watching from above, and thinking, “soul’s home.”