Come closer, Beloved.
The garden is waiting.
Listen: the fountain is whispering your name…
Come and rest beneath the pomegranate tree.
Breathe the jasmine that surrenders at midnight.
Here is where beauty begins — not in glass or reflection, but in the secret chamber of the heart that remembers eternity.
the garden remembers you
Listen:
the fountain
is whispering your name…
Where it Begins
I will not flatter you with false promises.
You are already more radiant than any rose.
But come, let me remind you.
Our story was born in Persian gardens,
where lovers kissed by the fountain’s edge,
where our mothers pressed peaches into our palms and told us secrets about life,
where poets sang that every fragrance is only a hint of the divine.
This is an invitation to return to yourself.
She Dreams of Persian Gardens
As do you, beautiful…
The Dreaming
We begin with longing.
Not transactions.
The perfumes will come —
roses, jasmine, sandal blossoms dripping in gold.
But not yet.
First, we must fall in love.
We must dream together of a beauty that does not disrupt the body,
that does not poison the earth,
that feels as eternal as a kiss under moonlight.
Follow along...
This garden is already yours.
Last Night, at the Break of Dawn…
Last night, at the break of dawn, I was delivered from sorrow.
And in the dark night of the soul, I was given eternity (the water of life).
What a blessed night, and a most cherished dawn!
That night of power, when I was granted this new destiny.
The Invitation
"They handed me the Water of Life in the dark of night." — Hafiz
Come closer. Enter the garden.
Let me send you poetry, visions, secrets.
Let me tell you first when the elixirs are born.