Exactly. One of my experiences, in recording dreams, is that there is a tendency to reverse-engineer them so that they apply to direct experience. That seems to malign them, in my opinion. The assumption in that is, I guess, that the language of dreams is secondary to the language of waking states. But, if you think carefully about how the content of a dream is organised, it is put together in a very contingent way: a dream is supposed to provide a 'complete' 360 degree view, something that patches together patches into a quilt-work of sorts, if you will. In this sense, comprehensibility is not the most important factor, because comprehensibility is reductive and tends only to work with things in piecemeal, at least generally speaking. The purpose of a dream(s) is to avoid the vacuum of singular experience and/or determinate meaning, and instead to fill the gaps (in every which way) left by those former things. At least, that's my theory.

Poetry is not at all dissimilar from this, and in fact, I'm not entirely sure what comes first, the dream or the poem. Most likely the dream, I think.

But in the sense that they deal with abstract concepts, and further, abstractions and shifting of existing concepts; available in more than one way, style, or sense; they are exactly the same.