‎ Whispers of a Hidden Eden‎‎

Beneath the veil of morning mist, ‎Where sun and silence softly kissed, ‎There lies a land the maps forget— ‎No footprints mark its borders yet. ‎

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‎A brook hums songs in silver streams, ‎Like lullabies from woven dreams. ‎The trees wear gowns of emerald lace, ‎And winds caress each quiet place. ‎

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‎A stag stands tall with eyes of gold, ‎By flowers brave and petals bold. ‎The mountains hum, the valley sighs, ‎With clouds that paint the waiting skies. ‎

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‎A path of moss, both soft and green, ‎Leads deep into this hushed ravine. ‎No clock, no noise, no metal clang— ‎Just birds and breeze and wildfang. ‎

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‎A girl once came with searching eyes, ‎Drawn by the hush, the light, the skies. ‎She dropped her fears like autumn leaves, ‎And breathed the truth the forest weaves. ‎

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‎She danced beneath the ancient trees, ‎Her laughter carried by the breeze. ‎The meadow bloomed where she would tread, ‎As if the earth itself had said— ‎

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‎“You’ve found the place where wonder stays, ‎Untouched by time, unspoiled by days.” ‎And though she left when dusk grew near, ‎She hears its whispers, soft and clear: ‎

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‎Return again when dreams are wide, ‎For Eden waits where truths still hide. ‎

Thank you.

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