The White Door

Long ago, in a dream of mine, a recurring vision, I beheld a white door. An elaborate polished portal surrounded by void. My beautiful door, dividing nowhere from nowhere was a curious object in the middle of the void. It was quite strange. Day after day I thought about the white door in my dream, and every night it was there again to confuse me once more. Long ago, I gave up on the dream, the unanswered riddle, and stopped thinking about it. When I saw the door again I closed my mind. I know the meaning now, of my lost dream, that abstract puzzle. For my dreams are empty without the white door.