Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.~Langston Hughes
Where the Soul and Subconscious Meet
The other night, I dreamed I was in a new relationship. We were on a trip, walking through the woods where the land had been cleared—open, yet tender. From the trees hung purple plants that bloomed freely, their petals swaying as if they knew we were watching. The air was thick with possibility. Then the clouds opened, and it began to snow—large, full flakes that we caught with our hands, laughing. We were on our way to a friend’s wedding.
Even as I slept, I could feel the awe of that moment. The lightness. The quiet joy of being seen and free at once. I wanted to stay in that dream a little bit longer; it was safe, peaceful—with joy.
Dreams as Mirrors of the Inner World
Clinically, dreams are often described as the mind’s way of speaking in symbols—an intimate language of images, feelings, and unfinished stories. They help us integrate emotions that are too complex or quiet to surface during waking life.
When we dream of open landscapes, new connections, or nature renewing itself, it can reflect an inner readiness—healing that has been quietly taking place beneath the surface. Dreams of color, like the purple blooms I saw, often symbolize intuition and spiritual awareness. Snow, in its stillness, can represent cleansing, clarity, or grace. It once snowed heavily in April in NC and I thought it was the most perfect way of understanding God love for us. Rare. Tangible. Plentiful. Unknown
As a therapist, I’ve learned that dreams are not random. They are bridges—between what we know and what we’re becoming. They invite us to listen more deeply, to trust what our inner life is trying to show us.
Dreams as Spiritual Gateways
Spiritually, I’ve come to believe dreams are sacred conversations—where the Divine, ancestors, or the higher self speak through imagery our soul understands.
In the dream, the snow felt like blessing—pure and effortless. It wasn’t something I chased; it descended when I was already present, open, and content. That’s often how grace works: it arrives when we stop striving.
The landscape felt holy, familiar yet transformed. Maybe that’s what spiritual renewal feels like—recognizing parts of yourself you thought were long gone, blooming again in unexpected colors.
Integrating the Message
When I woke, I carried that stillness with me. The dream wasn’t about prediction; it was about permission—permission to soften into connection, to trust that what’s meant for me will unfold in divine timing.
It reminded me that love—both human and sacred—often enters through cleared ground, after we’ve done the work to let go of what’s overgrown.
Reflection Prompt
This week, pay attention to what returns to you in your sleep.
Notice how you feel when you wake—peaceful, unsettled, inspired.
What emotion lingers, and what might it be asking you to honor in your waking life?
Closing Reflection
Intimately Worded has always been about those quiet, sacred exchanges—the places where our human stories touch something holy. Dreams remind us that healing isn’t always loud or linear. Sometimes, it’s revealed in symbols, softness, and snowflakes that fall without effort.
May your dreams this season guide you gently toward what’s real, ready, and meant to unfold. Trust the gateways that open, even in sleep. 🌿
To the DreamWeavers
I am learning to weave my dreams
not with thread, but with breath —
the kind that remembers what it’s like
to rest without running,
to trust without proof.
Each night, I gather what the day left behind:
the ache of waiting,
the shimmer of becoming,
the quiet hands of grace
that still reach for me in sleep.
Dreams speak in color and silence,
purple and snow,
love and letting go.
They teach me how to begin again
without erasing what was.
And so I weave —
not to escape waking life,
but to remind myself
that even when the world is still,
the soul is always creating.✨
Be brave,
Michelle
©️Intimately Worded, Michelle
Intimately Worded with Michelle 
Please comment