I have read lots of poetry but I feel very attracted to works of American Poet and Professor J.K. Fowler. I get lucid easily after listening to him because he is a very caring and smart person and because his voice feels very soothing to me—his voice resets my brainwaves properly. Before you read this dream, know that I have never met J.K. in person.
So I listened to one of his poems tonight. The atmosphere around me started changing gradually while I was still awake. First I felt a presence near me while I was resting on my bed. It was a very comfy presence so I slept near it while hugging it. This is odd to explain! Basically my bed is always warm; but, today it felt different because the atmosphere became heavier and denser. I could feel strong vibes of some sort coming from somewhere. Then there was this comforting smell that I continued to experience till morning.
As I finally slept, I had a lucid dream. In this dream, I could see J.K. in a video. He loves his projects because he puts quite an effort in them; and, I really admire him for doing this. So in this video, he was walking in a crowded area and singing one of his poems. One of the kids who was with three really beautiful women who had small faces but really large eyes stopped the poet to play with him. The poet bent and placed his face near the kid’s face and smiled. I looked at the women again who were also smiling at this while they talked to each other. As he talked to the kid, the facial color of the three women changed from dull white to rosy white. Then he walked away. Now he was singing a beautiful song as he faced the camera. I could not fully understand all the words and techniques he threw although I felt mesmerized by his performance. As he swayed his head and uttered some beautiful words, everything around him faded; he seemed unaware of my presence although to some extent he knew that I was watching. After performing, he walked away and now he slowly became faded like a blob. My eyes eagerly tailed him; and, I could still see his vanishing figure.
When I woke up, I felt that my hand that was resting on my pillow was being held by a powerful force that I have learned to relate to this poet. I could feel this power attached to me, which makes sense because I feel attached to both him and his works.
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