Digging through the archive, I found this

[Passchendaele]

A little something for the Freudian and Jungian dream workers out there.

I am kneeling between two natural pools of water. There is bright light from an unseen source on both pools, all else is black void. The left hand pool is cloudy, as though someone dumped a gallon of milk into it. I can see vague...things...moving through it. No detail is possible.

The right hand pool is crystal clear. I can see rocks and sand, but there is nothing moving through it.

A disembodied female voice tells me that Naiads live in the cloudy pool, but not in the clear one. I reach out my left arm and hand, the only part of my body that I can see, and touch the cloudy pool. The water is very warm and viscus, like semen.

I look at the right hand pool, but do not touch it. When I look back at my left hand I am holding a quantity of gold dust, very fine, like flour. The woman's voice tells me to spread it across the cloudy pool. I do, the dust sits on the surface in a perfect golden crescent.

It sinks beneath the surface all at once. Immediately the water begins to roil and move about as if an invisible hand were stirring it. I stand and jump back.

A woman begins to rise from the water. She is translucent, as though made of white sea glass, illuminated from within. She has no color other than white, her form is clear, but there is no surface detail. She is naked. Stunningly beautiful. Her facial features are African or North African. Thick, full lips, an oval face, very thick, wavy hair.

Once she has fully surfaced, she slowly walks toward me, stepping out of the pool. As she approaches she becomes more solid. By the time she reaches me she looks as though she had been carved from flawless alabaster, still brightly illuminated from within.

She raises her left hand to the side of my face. Her touch is solid and hot, but the touch of a human hand, not stone. I lean in and kiss her. As our lips meet she explodes into a cloud of hot, salty liquid.

Then I wake up.

Now, I had this “dream” several years ago, I include it now because, on re-reading it in my dream journal, it has all the elements of a vision. Even without reading the entry, I remember every detail. Only visions stay with me like that. The biggest difference being that it happened as a “stand alone” vision, if it was that, and not a vision within a dream, which is “normal” for me. She is not someone I know in “waking” life. If I had met her here, I wouldn't have forgotten it.