The Ancestral Shore

They say every soul must one day find the Ancestral Shore — that hidden strand where the tide of time runs both ways, and the voices of the past rise with the waves. I reached it in a dream, or perhaps a memory, walking through the mist until the scent of salt and wild thyme filled the air. The sea before me glowed with a pale green light, and shapes moved within it — not shadows, but kin, faces both known and half-remembered, their eyes bright as stars in the dark water. They did not speak, yet I understood: they were the keepers of all that had been loved, all that had endured. The waves lapped gently around my feet, cool and familiar, and in that touch I felt the heartbeat of every generation that had ever stood upon that same sand. When I turned to leave, the shore was gone — but the sound of the sea remained within me, steady and eternal, calling me home even in my waking hours.

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Description created using https://chatgpt.com
Imagery created using https://creator.nightcafe.studio
Video Editing using https://filmora.wondershare.net

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