i can not specifically recall details of any dreams at this moment
(if i don't write them down when i awake, they're gone)
what i do recall is that when i allow myself to die in the dream
('cuz lotsa times i'm too scared and wake up)
i simply drift off into never never land
usually it's a floating sensation through the sky or into the depths of the ocean
and i wake up refreshed

as a related side note,
here's something that was in my mailbox this morning:

Poem: "The Dreams of the Old" by Timothy J. Nolan.
So they are around our table—my mother,
my father, an uncle—and we begin to talk
about our dreams—with some urgency—
as if our dreams could pinpoint our psychic
dangers—our unrealized goals—our
ordinary fear of death and the future.
My mother talks about her dreams of flying
over the little town where she grew up—
over the old Opera House—down Main Street—
with all the people she knew below her—
then towards the gently flowing river—
that seemed to flow into the sunset—
toward which she soared—she lingered
with us on that image—as if she had said
enough—then—my uncle talked about
his recurring dream—he's going to be
in a play—but no one's bothered
to rehearse the scenes—he's standing
in the wings waiting to go on—he doesn't
know what he will say—all through this
my father is silent—he is closest to death—
we all know this—we forgive him his silence—
his silence—has his presence—as in a dream.