Reoccurring Dream

I have a reoccurring dream. In this dream I am in a wooden shack, dusted and old. I breathe suddenly and deeply regaining consciousness As though I was in deep thought, yet nothing fills my mind. I sit up from a creaky old stool to realize my surroundings. I have been to this place before; my footsteps mark the dirty floor, imprinted in the dust. My attention is drawn to a dirty window as the sound of thunder claps around me. The sky is vibrant and tormented; Swirls of white wrestle the grey clouds as lightening runs across the sky in a beautiful Array colors. Then the smell of fresh rain fills my senses. I leave the shack to enter a barren plain, infinite on all horizons With the exception of a massive black tree; naked and alone. I gaze at the sky once more and a cool breeze flows through, filling me completely. The tree now too begins to breathe deeply the cool winds, large and intensely. As I walk towards the tree it begins rain. The rain drops touch me but I am not wet. The dry dirt drinks the rain as quickly as it falls muddying the soil I am walking on, Though my feet are not muddy. My feet imprint the dirt but the mud does not stay, Only the wetness of the soil, leaving my feet damp. I run towards the tree that now bears a single fruit. I reach for it but sobbingly the tree begs me not to eat its only child. Disheartened I sit on the ground digging my hands into the dry soil. Underneath it is dark fertile earth, but like the mud it does not dirty my hands; It gently falls to the ground. In the holes I have dug water begins to pool from the rain, Clear and pure. I gaze into the pools but see no reflection, only the sky above. I put my face in these pools and breathe; no water fills my lungs, Though water fills my ears. I remove my head from the water and hear no sound; My eyes are closed and all is silent. Slowly the water drains and sound returns, Thoughts rush my mind and words encourage my tongue; I am awake.