Dream

This morning, I dreamt odd dreams. I dreamt of saving a kingdom in what seemed to be Mongolia, but with great, monolithic structures, or at least exploring it. I was somehow able to tell, after the dream moved to a wet, green, forested area in which there was a single, wooden shack, that a baby had one of his teeth forcibly removed and replaced with a gold coin by a Buddhist monk of some sort. He had taken the tooth for his own, and I used some kind of power to remove it from his mouth without touching him and remove the coin from the babies mouth, but I did not replace the tooth. I also remember a long wall, like the Great Wall of China, but stretching far across the desert.

The next part of the dream, I seemed to be walking through the main chamber of a huge palace, the gray light of morning piercing through the windows in the uppermost sections of the walls. It had Arabic influences in the general style and aesthetics. As I was walking, I either heard or started singing a song with no lyrics, but it was mournful, and the odd part was I felt I had sung it before. Looking around, I saw ladies in waiting, all clothed in white silk, their faces covered all but for their eyes. To the right, as I passed a group of ladies in waiting sitting near a woman whose silk shone like the sun, I heard a voice that seemed to identify me walking through. It was a motherly voice, but it commanded respect. I did not stop, I could only turn to look at her, covered similarly in white silk, but hers was embroidered with gold and jewels. I continued to walk across the palace to the door on the other side, opened it, and ran to a courtyard full of tigers. The singing continued and grew louder, more somber than it had been in the building. I ran to one of the tigers, a huge creature that lumbered towards me. I grabbed its furry face with two hands in a loving embrace and began to cry, and it cried with me. The last part I can remember is the camera moving out to a view of me, who was apparently a female in a very Arabic-style outfit, weeping with my forehead against the tiger's forehead in a garden surrounded by other tigers and white petals falling from the sky.

This was not a recurring dream.