moonlit journey

I wake in the night, the air is damp. the stone floor is cool on my bare feet, a the breeze moves over the fields outside my window and stirs my nightgown. the moon is bathing the sheaves of wheat, dancing and shimmering before my eyes. there is a strange door in my chamber that I have never seen there. everything is washed in silver, and the handle of the door feels metallic. with trepidition, I open the door.
It's a long dining hall, glowing with golden light from a thousand candles. the table is the longest of rectangles, the horsehair chairs fit for kings. it is set with dinnerware for a feast. the walls are castle stones, hung with with beautiful tapestries; queens with their elegantly dressed children, lions midroar, warriors in their glory.
As if in a spell I move through the room, taking in the gleaming goblets and blazing banners hung from the ceiling. Upon entering the room it seemed completely enclosed, but as I reach the end of the table I see that there is a giant imposing doorway, opening out into more silver moonlight. I look behind me at the far wall, and see that the door through which I came is no more. instead there is a tapestry, brilliantly colored, showing a majestic tree in full flourish, laden with fruit of every kind. there is no way back, I must go forward.
I step through the doors so large they must be gates instead, and find myself on a cool white marble veranda. the railing is intricate, and carved with such detail it brings tears to the appreciative eye. the marble is smooth and although not warm, it has a warming effect even while it feels chilled. spread out before me are stairs, wide, curving stairs, getting smaller and smaller as they descend to the earth.
I follow them down knowing before I look that the gates behind me are closed, perhaps not even there anymore. each step makes me feel as though I am floating down, and when I reach the bottom, the crisp grass touches me with droplets of water that cling to my feet and the hem of my nightgown.
I wander, no destination apparent, through the glade, till I see a violet haze ahead, tinged about the edges in the moonlit silver. as it comes closer, it materializes into a grove of trees...and the sound of tinkling bells is drifting toward me on the wind. there are soft white shapes moving among the trees, and one of them breaks from the haze and comes toward me.
It is a nyad, a woman clad in flowing white, her hair moving like the soft tangle of spanish moss. "come sister!" she speaks to me, and takes my trembling hand in her long, firm fingers. "come dance with us." she leads me on into the grove, where I am greeted by all of the nyads there, and given grapes to eat, and dew to drink. the sound I thought was bells was their laughter, mixed with their tambourines that they shook and twirled as they danced. they took my hands and brought me into their circle, and I danced with them in the filtered moonlight beneath the trees...I danced forever. it lasted for eternity and ended too quickly. the nyad who had drawn me in pointed to a towering oak when the moonlight began to wan, saying "this way sister...you must come now." I followed her to the trunk of the tree, where suddenly there was a door. she opened it, then kissed my forehead and ushered me through the doorway.
As the door closed behind me, I sat up. I sat on my bed of straw, listening to the clicking of a birds beak on wood. outside in the morning sun, the sheaves of wheat were bowing, and the light created patchwork across the stones on the floor. my nightgown was dry, there was no dew still clinging to the hem. I felt a wash of disappointment, a realization that it must not have been real. I stood and walked to the washbasin, splashed my face, and peered into the glass hanging before me. There, twined around my head, was a crown of grape leaves.