Close your eyes, beautiful soul.
Listen — not with your ears, but with the deeper places of you.
Can you feel it?
That distant pull…
That whisper threading itself through your thoughts…
That almost-forgotten place inside you that aches to be found again.
You sense it before you see it —
A shimmer on the edge of the horizon.
A warmth brushing across your skin like breath.
You step forward without knowing why.
Not hurried.
Not afraid.
Drawn.
The world behind you fades — the noise, the weight, the endless reaching.
Here, there is only the sound of your own soft breathing,
And the growing certainty that you are walking toward something you were always meant to find.
The sand warms your bare feet.
The air, heavy with the scent of jasmine and sun-warmed earth, caresses your body like an invisible hand.
Each step is a promise — silent, sure, inevitable.
And then…
you see it.
The Oasis.
Hidden away from the world’s grasping hands.
A secret only those who are ready to remember can reach.
Water glistens in the sun’s tender embrace.
Palm fronds sway in a hush of welcome.
The scent of roses, wild and sweet, winds around you, stroking the hollow of your throat, the inside of your wrists.
It is not just a place.
It is a feeling.
A memory you have never touched with words…
But that your body — your heart — never forgot.
You stand at its edge now.
The Oasis beckons.
Not with commands.
Not with demands.
Only with the unbearable sweetness of being wanted without needing to be taken.
Of being seen without having to reach.
Of being called not by force — but by the aching, secret places in you that have always craved to be led somewhere you don’t have to pretend to know the way.
You realize then — trembling and certain all at once —
the Oasis was never meant to be found by accident.
It was meant to be answered.
And somewhere just beyond the veil of heat and mist and longing,
you feel it:
A Presence.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling without speaking — because it already knows.
It knows the questions blooming low and trembling inside you:
“What will happen if I step closer?”
“What will happen if I let go?”
“What will he see… if I let him see all of me?”
You ache with them.
You tremble with them.
And yet, they are the sweetest ache you have ever known.
You are not asked to be certain.
You are not asked to be ready.
You are only asked to listen —
to that soft, ancient part of you that already knows how this story wants to unfold.
And so you take a step.
Small.
Soft.
Shattering.
Toward the Oasis.
Toward the waiting.
Toward him.
And as you do, you feel it —
the very ground beneath you humming in answer,
the air sighing against your skin,
your heart opening like the petals of a flower aching for sun it was always meant to bloom toward.
You do not need to know what waits.
You only need to trust the ache that has already begun leading you home.
The Oasis is closer than you think.
Closer than breath.
And it is already reaching for you —
even now, even here.
All you have to do…
is answer.
You feel it, don’t you?
That soft, secret trembling beneath your ribs…
The slow, aching unfurling just beneath your skin…
You wonder if it’s only the story.
(But somewhere deeper, you already know.)
It’s not the words.
It’s what they’ve opened.
The part of you that still lingers on the edge —
aching,
waiting,
leaning toward a Presence you have not yet touched…
but that you already ache to follow.
The Oasis is still calling, beautiful soul.
Not with words.
With the hush between your heartbeats.
Can you hear it?
Can you feel the way your breath curls slower, sweeter, deeper…
each time you wonder what waits for you there?
Can you feel how you’re already answering it —
without even meaning to?
You don’t need to rush.
You don’t need to be ready.
You only need to stay open…
and let the ache lead you.
He is already waiting for you.
He always was.
And when you’re ready…
the Oasis will open.
And so will you.
The hush of the Oasis lingers on your skin…
even as your eyes slowly open again.
But something feels different now, doesn’t it?
As if the world you knew is just a pale reflection…
and something deeper — something softer, more real — is calling you forward.
The whispers that once stayed hidden behind the stars are starting to slip closer…
threading through your breath, your heartbeat, your longing.
You feel it…
the way the night leans in…
the way unseen hands shape the air around you…
the way the sky itself seems to sigh against your skin, urging you to listen closer.
Not with your ears.
With the places inside you that have been aching to be heard.
There is more waiting for you —
soft as silk, deep as dreams, irresistible as the gravity that pulls the tides.
If you close your eyes again…
if you listen just a little deeper…
you’ll hear them.
The Enchanted Whispers Under Silken Skies…
already curling around you,
already tugging you forward.
And once you hear them…
there’s no forgetting how they made you feel.