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Dreams smile

Found 765 dreams containing smile - Page 29


Explore a collection of the latest dreams shared by our community. Discover common themes, intriguing narratives, and unique symbolism. From vivid adventures to thought-provoking scenarios, these recent dreams offer a glimpse into the subconscious mind and may even spark insights into your own dream world. Browse the "Latest Dreams" to find inspiration, connect with others, and delve deeper into the fascinating realm of dreams.

I was riding in a tiny canoe with my imaginary crush, Leo Valdez. It was overcast, the sky gray and the lake gray, as well. We were canoeing in a lake surrounded by trees, and as we rowed along, I saw hooded black figures sprinting across the land, and I also saw Pope Francis giving a blessing to a child. Leo and I docked our boat on the shore, and as soon as we got off of the boat, a few of the cloaked black figures swooped in and snatched up Leo. They ran away with him, and somehow, I had enhanced agility, and so I was able to climb the trees without anyone noticing. After a while, however, I saw Pope Francis, again. He looked up and saw me, and beckoned for me to come down. I did. He asked me why I looked so troubled, and why I was hiding in that tree. I explained to him my situation. He nodded, touched my forehead, and said, "Do not fear, child. You are now blessed by God." I quickly thanked him and ran away, because I saw the black-clothed people, and this time , they had knives and guns. I ran to the lake, and on the other side, I saw Leo, and he smiled at me.

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I was walking on this road and I saw a boy coming. For some reason, I was really scared of him. An old man walking beside me put his arm around me and protected me. Some girls came to rob me or whatever but he saved me. We didn't talk the whole while, but when it was time to go, I asked him for his name. He didn't reply but I told mine. Then he asked me for my age and I said that age never matters. But then I blurted out that I was 18, and yet I didn't get a reply from him. He started tearing up and cried with a sad smile. He vanished in the crowd and i ran after him. However, i guess I'd lost him already. When I went back home, I cried and cried. I woke up crying.

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I had a dream that I stood on the crossroad and I was waiting for crossing it. I saw a man who I like waiting on his bicycle. He wore pink shorts and black bag. He crossed it first without me. Suddenly he stood next to me and we crossed it together. Then I saw a bus on a bus station and I realized that I need to catch it. Suddenly I was in this bus, next to me was sitting this man and to our opposite were sitting his two friends. They were chatting, I couldn't see their faces, only their silhouettes. Then I felt his hand on my leg, I hold his hand and he looked at me, smiled and then sun irradiate him.

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I was traveling through the Middle East, a rare sight of a woman alone with her children. Everywhere we went, small children with large, dark, haunted eyes would watch my son and daughter as they laughed easily, teased each other and tried to talk to one another in Arabic from a small red phrasebook. One day we sat on a hot, dusty, crowded train. As the vista flashed by outside the window, a young boy, close to the same age as my son, sat across from us with his father. He watched quietly, seriously, as my children giggled, poked at one another and pointed out goats, mountains and beautiful rolling dunes awash in browns, soft pinks and ochers. My daughter turned to the boy and spoke a short phrase to him - "Hello; how are you?" - and suddenly he smiled, huge brown eyes lighting up and his face transformed into that of a beautiful and carefree young man. He began to answer when his father, eyes flashing, gave him a sharp reprimand in the universal language that every parent understands, the tone conveying words I understood in a language I could not. The boy cast his eyes downward. I looked at the man and attempted his language. "I'm sorry and it is not my business yet...why is it not alright for our children to speak with one another?" He looked at me and, with a small sigh, said "Our children are not the same." I said, "We are not wealthy people; you have no reason to dislike us." He barked a short laugh and said, "You, wealthy? You have riches. We -" he pointed at his breast, "we have wealth. We have the wealth that comes from true knowledge of our Creator, of our thousands of years of history, of our struggles. Of our losses. Of our families, of our heritage, of our culture. Your children have riches. Riches of the promise of a future. My son has wealth. But the promise of a future...?" He raised his arms heavenward in a fatalistic gesture and slowly turned his head to look out the window of the train. His proud face looked resigned yet strangely at peace. I woke up with tears running down my face.

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I just remember seeing my dog get shot, I don't know why, then for some reason I went to college and once I entered the building, I saw a familiar face there. I saw my ex- girlfriend there, I was shocked to see her there and she ran towards me in glee. I hugged her but I didn't smile as big as she did. Then she let go of me and walked away. I kept looking forward and on a small tv screen. I saw an action film playing that I already saw and it was a man getting hit by a car.

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