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The Purple Ocean

Where Ancestors Gather

By Andrea LawrencePublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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The dreamscape begins: I step into the white sand.

My memories resurface and expand;

I remember this place, the purple ocean,

How she loves any and every emotion.

Her giant waves knock the shore,

And I wait for each encore.

---

The ocean hidden in my dreams,

The meeting place of all the streams,

Where my ancestors go and wait⁠—

They listen and watch the mysteries of fate.

---

The ocean calls me to a tall, black door⁠—

One I can't enter nor explore.

At least, not until fate has given its invitation⁠—

Seeking it now will only end in frustration.

I can't know what's beyond the purple waters;

It will one day call to my daughters,

By then, I'll be waiting for them on the other side.

I'll be waiting for them at the purple seaside.

---

Wake from my dream,

I can feel something in my bloodstream.

What strange things are passed down;

my family memories form a town.

There is comfort in pillows and sheets;

There is comfort in the dream that repeats.

nature poetrysurreal poetrylove poems
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About the Creator

Andrea Lawrence

Freelance writer. Undergrad in Digital Film and Mass Media. Master's in English Creative Writing. Spent six years working as a journalist. Owns one dog and two cats.

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