I'm not sure how I become lucid, but it starts off at my old family house. I'm moving through the air, moderately lucid - just flying about. As I travel around, I cross down past the little vegetable patch right next to the house, and to the green area below.

This area seems sharp - there are bushes here that tear at my skin. I feel pain, but I'm lucid enough to know not to give into it. My focus is on where I'm going, where I need to be, rather than the physical immediacy of the pain I'm experiencing. I go inward, tightening into myself, yet continuing.

I can appreciate the power of this, and am relieved to find that I've surpassed the savage green, dark and thorny bushes. Now I'm outside the old shed -a delapidated old building whose appearance strikes me as interesting at the time too (given that it was always out-of-bounds as both a child and a teenager). However, what I find even more interesting is the feeling of travelling.

I can feel the "astral waves" - the energy that dances here, streaming through the environment. The energy that brings the quasi-physical aspect of the dream into being. It brings to mind lucid dream experiences from when I was younger. I like that. I start flying about in the sky, hovering, but not really doing anything particular.

I notice though - that the pain I blocked out earlier, has left it's mark. Tears seem to be forcefully making their way from my eyes. I see myself for a moment, in a big sturdy set of goggles (like might one have, if they were out cutting grass). Emotionally I'm fine, but the goggles seem to be swelling with the tears of the physical pain I must have experienced earlier. It's at this point that I make out a little stream/river to my right. The goggles seem to dissipate from view.

The river's quite colourful, and I'm quickly intrigued. I drop down to ground level to check out, and see that there are colours shimmering in the water. As I watch it, I have a brainwave. I decide I want to seek "healing" from the waters.

I wave my hands above the river, and begin to call on it - almost conjuring, calling up "healing energies" from the waters below. I stand there for a few moments waiting for the water to respond, and then the colours begin to shuffle and reorganise themself. Crystals and stones morph into view, roughing about in the water.

A wave of white, a wave of grey, a small pool of black. Patterns forming amongst the stones, continuing to reorganise themselves. The majority of the stones seem to be of a polished, round, white form, and gradually these seem to take over - outweighing the black, one coherent formation bobbing about in the water.

I hear the voice of two older men pop up on my right. They seem familiar ...

"Give permission to make a prayer" - they say, indicating the stones bobbing about in the water.

It strikes me as pretty profound, but hey, I know what they mean. The waters of the river wish to heal me, but I need to give them permission.

I approach the river.

"I give my permission to make prayer" ...

The men step-in at this point - "to make a prayer", they say, carefully emphasising the "a". An image pops up in my mind of men in prayer at a church. I'm supposed to be a little more specific. It's about me. I approach the water again.

"I give my permission to make a prayer ..."

This seems to do the trick. The men draw me over to an area, a little further away from the river ...

"We give you permission to make a gift".

I'm a little taken aback. Now I have work to do.

I step into another area, and find myself moulding the stones into some kind of clay like material, involved in the process of making a gift for the river. I'm just thinking about what a shame it is that I'm losing lucidity, and about to wake up, when I realise the message here.

The making of the gift is something I can continue in the waking world. As I bubble up from my dream, I hear some final words

"paper sparkle" (or something like this).