She mindfully dabs her finger in the bronze chalice before her,
Holding the crimson blood of her moon.
Her fingertip fizzles,
A subtle nuance of energetic embodiment,
Warbling with sacred power by her ardent yogic devotions.
She delights in these mercurial movements,
Her body sensitized,
Woke beyond the benumbed doldrums that modernity persecutes the common lot with.
She brings her finger to touch the holy place between her eyebrows,
Anointing her inner vision.
As she closes her eyes and feels the tingling of her moon blood tickling awake her inner sight,
Singing a hymn through the secret channel from forehead to pineal gland,
Which trembles tenderly,
Unfolding its luminous petals as she sighs sweetly,
Breathing a kiss to the alchemy of her awakening.
She rests her hands on her thighs as the morning sun emerges from behind a cloud,
Piercing through the window to adorn her naked body in golden warmth.
She sighs deeply,
Drinking succulently with her skin the majesty of the masculine,
The hymnal of fire,
The hubris of cosmos,
Glowing penetration.
She pulls the rays deeper inside of her,
Her awareness brazenly grasping shafts of light,
Thrusting them into her hungry body,
Yearning ever for the tryst of yin-yang to bellow in the temple of her heart,
Roar with the love that is light's essence.
She tenderly embraces her body with the encompassing gossamer of her soul's ethereal delight,
Feeling speckles of dancing destiny and glimmers of levity going to any heaviness within with assiduous affection of awareness,
Cajoling herself to wholeness,
Tickling stagnation to flow.
She opens her dark and witchy eyes,
Sweetly fierce,
Fiercely sweet,
And gazes with a swooning reverence at her altar.
She marvels at the galactic wings of Isis,
Feeling at once a speck of her heart tumbling into infinity,
An area of her aquarian soul singing like a siren to eternity's enchantments.
Her spine rises by sight of Kali,
And her own rage boils,
Shooting through her meridians with such might that she loses herself for a moment in a cacophony of besieging memories,
Striking the citadel of her heart with an array of weapons.
She bends over to seek the comfort of Earth,
Gaia,
Sophia,
Mother,
And tears come streaming down her eyes as fire and water dance a chaotic waltz in the storm that has become her soul.
The sadness quivers with a relentless tenderness,
Which she mistakes as pain,
So she thrusts her anger upon it,
But it is of no use.
She is carried away by a river of weeping.
Quan Yin billows to the wall with a thousand shining arms to wrap around her,
Counsel her soul with infinitudes of compassion.
Inanna climbs out from the Earth naked as herself,
Covered in the darkened soil smears of the underworld,
And sings a wild song of rebirth to her heavenly heart.
An Artemis pokes through a portal in the air to shoot a flaming arrow into the breast of a snickering demon that was about to leap upon her from behind.
Snarling with fury,
It falls to the ground and melts into howling vapor.
Passionate tears cascade from her eyes,
Riding the magnetic rivers of her channels all the way to one of her nipples.
She follows the sensation,
Feeling the bell of her breast ringing with sensuous faith.
She centers in a sigh and another,
Returns her spine erect,
Invokes the goddess.
Oh great sacred goddess,
I am your priestess,
Your humble servant.
Teach my pain to become wisdom.
Help me guide from my wounds,
Not only from my strength.
Teach me to have compassion for what has befallen my sisters and my brothers.
She sighs as her body begins to shimmer with energy,
Allowing the tumult of tears with greater capaciousness,
Opens the creaky gates of her temple so these tired aching memories can flow to the teeming ocean outside,
Returning them to the cosmic womb,
The galaxy of mother.
She is more tender now,
A little unfamiliar for her warrior soul,
And yet she knows,
Oh how she knows,
That this softness billowing now from her radiant heart is manna for not only her,
But the world starving for mother,
For great mother.
I am yours,
Great mother.
I serve you.
Please guide me.
She intones fiercely.
A vision comes to her as immediate response,
Her heart bursting open,
Exploding in all directions,
A surging force,
A tidal light,
Spraying its golden hue all around,
Upon a wasteland of a world of decrepit lands and ruins and ghastly ghosts,
The miseries upon miseries.
Her roaring radiance carries a magical power of fertility,
For all it blazes upon it transforms,
These dark demonic distortions cavorting into beauty,
Pastoral poetries of landscapes,
Blossoming with nature,
Verdant hymns of life and love,
Into goddess everywhere,
Goddess.
She is shaking,
For her heart has become a pure channel and nothing more,
Beaming this indomitable mother love from goddess herself through her,
And it is beyond intense.
It asks for all of her to hold this voluptuous frequency,
And she holds,
And she holds,
And she holds,
And she holds.
Her fury now turning to warrior will,
Not the dissipations of fruitless rage,
Her yogic skills directing its one-pointed ode of awareness and laser-like intention,
To hold,
Hold,
Hold.
I will love this world awake,
She laments,
And she can see in the distance demons running for cover,
As her heart's storm of radiance obliterates them with transmutation,
And they transform into flowers,
Trees,
Meadows,
Rivers,
Adorable animals.
She screams as the final hiding places of pain in her heart are thrown into this continuum.
I require all of you,
My dear,
All of your heart,
All of your love.
The world needs the full gospel of woman,
Of the sacred feminine,
Now.
She hears these words of ferocious encouragement,
And spies Isis floating above,
Her wings shimmering,
Her eyes blazing with wizardry,
Piercing her,
Throwing courage on her heart's incandescent fire,
Commanding her to total surrender.
She holds her pain,
No throwing away,
No covering up,
She welcomes it to this dance,
And her light blazes even more.
I,
Waking the world,
Destroying evil with love,
A love that is beyond what she knew of,
An enigmatic magic,
All-powerful,
All-mighty,
The glory of goddess,
Love of love,
Wizardry of the womb from which this universe slipped from.
She lights the stick of palo santo,
And flings its thick cleansing smoke around her.
She dips a finger in her dark moon blood,
And paints a large dot between her breast,
And then rays of a star,
Breathing deeply into her womb,
Her body thrilled with energy,
As a small but profoundly felt smile curves on her lips.
She looks about her altar,
At all the goddesses,
All the archetypal feminine forms and sacred objects,
Collecting it all within her soul,
As she overflows with reverence,
And feels the arms of all these glorious ones,
These sacred sisters,
Wrapping round her in sweetest kinship.
She brings her hands to her forehead and bows,
And tears again.
I offer my tears to you,
Oh great goddess,
Thank you for these visions,
Thank you for everything.
She says with utmost tenderness,
As glowing fairies pet locks of her ravenous hair,
And kiss her cheeks,
And though the day is darkening to dusk through the window,
Her altar still seems defiantly bright,
For the light of her heart continues to emanate,
Waking the world with ferocious beauty.
