Once upon a time, there was a poet named Maya who dreamed every night. She loved her dreams and felt they were friends and messengers. Every night Maya and her dreams looked forward to seeing each other and talking in the language of dreams.
Once in bed, Maya tucked under her covers and closed her eyes. As her body relaxed, she let her mind wander and enter into the world of her imagination. The descent into dreams came slowly, smoothly, and gradually. And one night, something magical happened.
As she drifted to sleep, Maya felt herself settling in a large meadow filled with wildflowers and green grass. It was twilight, the air still and calm. The earth held her like the strong and warm arms of a loving mother. She could see the beauty of the universe all around her, and she felt like she was a part of it.
As she sat amidst the wildflowers and grass, her soul drifted through the cosmos. Maya noticed the twinkling stars. Her thoughts quickened, and began to take on a life of their own. Her dream became more vivid, images of loving people, the beauty of nature, and the wonder of simple moments. She felt like she was living inside a poem, each line flowing effortlessly from her mind.
Through the night, Maya realized that her dream was not just a dream but a glimpse into something more. She saw things in a new way, in a new light. Everything was full of meaning. She knew she had entered a realm where poetry and dreaming were one.
When Maya woke up the next morning, she felt changed. She knew that her dreaming had opened up a new world for her and that she would never be the same. She spent the rest of her days writing, creating, and dreaming.
And although she never had that same dream again, she felt content and thrived in the realm of poetic dreaming, writing, and living.
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