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Obsidian wind chimes welcome the crashing waves as another day exits, slowly sinking beneath the bay. Cool waters drenched in an almost amethyst hue offer mental reverberations as I ponder what I am next to do. Though the sea is but a tide that ebbs & flows- repletes & recedes- her words of wisdom forgo past the banks of her beaches & spread a breeze to every corner of night. She beckons me within myself; her deep abyss but a mirror. Her waters shine in a glimmering splendor as she makes the path ever clearer. To leave this shore that raised me is not a sign of disrespect, but a show of honor. My broken levees have her to thank & for that, I call her mother.
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Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 5:33 PM UTC
The Ocean Within
Obsidian wind chimes welcome the crashing waves as another day exits, slowly sinking beneath the bay. Cool waters drenched in an almost amethyst hue offer mental reverberations as I ponder what I am next to do. Though the sea is but a tide that ebbs & flows- repletes & recedes- her words of wisdom forgo past the banks of her beaches & spread a breeze to every corner of night. She beckons me within myself; her deep abyss but a mirror. Her waters shine in a glimmering splendor as she makes the path ever clearer. To leave this shore that raised me is not a sign of disrespect, but a show of honor. My broken levees have her to thank & for that, I call her mother.
Malachite
Written by
26/NB/Seattle
Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 5:33 PM UTC
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