There’s a kind of magic that doesn’t shout—it whispers. Mikel Rafael’s debut EP, The Eternal Hour, is exactly that kind of spell: soft-spoken, soul-deep, and stitched with silver thread. With just three songs, Rafael crafts an emotional arc that stretches far beyond its runtime, inviting listeners into a world where time slows, forests hum, and longing is a language all its own.
Opening track “Maples and Pines” is morning at its most mythic—a rustle of leaves, a memory of something once said and half-forgotten. Rafael’s voice is tender, almost translucent, gliding over fingerpicked guitar like smoke curling from a chimney. It’s not just a song—it’s a threshold, beckoning you into something ancient.
“The Stream” might be the heart of the EP. There’s a quiet urgency to it, like a prayer mouthed into a cold wind. Here, the artist’s lyrical gifts shine brightest: metaphors ripple like water, and the melody flows as though guided by gravity and ghosts. If you’ve ever felt the need to disappear just to find yourself again, this is your soundtrack.
Then comes dusk—“Rise Into The Gentle Night.” It closes the trilogy with a hush and a hush alone. No fireworks, no grand finale—just a slow fade into starlight. And yet, it lingers. The way dusk does. The way pain, once acknowledged, becomes oddly beautiful.
The Eternal Hour isn’t just an EP. It’s a soft lantern for the soul’s darker moments. Mikel Rafael has crafted something rare: a debut that doesn’t demand your attention but earns your trust. And once you’re in, you’ll never want to leave the woods.
