The Eternal Secret Poem by Mystic Qalandar

The veil of summer thins—
golden light spills hidden truths.
My touch flows over skin and leaf—
signs of quiet transformation,
a whisper of cycles beyond sight.

Cicadas chant the rhythm of eternity,
meadows bow, surrendering to sleep.
The river carries memory deep,
and I am the guardian of fading warmth,
keeper of the hidden flame.

The scent of ripened fields,
the fruit of harvest,
children chase fireflies—
laughter trailing sparks of light.
Silent offerings rise to the unseen,
seeded in time yet known to the eternal.

Winter comes, not as ending,
but as the alchemy of rest.
Seeds sleep willingly,
mountain air murmurs:
peace, patience, naked branches,
echoes of the divine design.

I am not lost.
In every root I lie dormant,
embers hidden beneath snow—
Earth's promise of renewal,
a covenant written in silence.

Spring will awaken.
Shadows of fear dissolve into the air,
and I return—
whispering, wild,
breathing life into every hidden vessel.

I crown the trees,
sing to the river,
scatter flowers across fields
that remember my touch,
the imprint of unseen hands.

I am not merely passing.
I circle endlessly—
a dance older than memory,
a spiral of sun, soil, and breath,
a covenant of hidden laws:

every ending a turn,
a bow, a curve—
life rises once more,
glorious, luminous, whole,
echoing the eternal secret:
nothing dies, all transforms,
and all is remembered
in the pulse of creation.