The She appears before you.
To set your soul ablaze with ecstasy.
Activating consciousness itself,
She is untamed.
The driver of energy rising.
Her fingertips dance across the heavens.
Weaving stars and worlds into existence.
Cosmic consciousness holds her steady for she is wild.
Challenging injustice and evil ways.
Your creative desire resides within her.
She feeds its will and sparks your inspiration.
She shows you beauty and offers you bliss.
But will you see it?
Will you accept it?
She's gotten lost in a world of hatred and greed.
Pushed down and made to feel heavy and weighted.
But those who still believe breathe life into her withered self.
The divine feminine.
The nurturer and the destroyer.
Her creative womb space lives within us.
To fuel us with new beginnings.
With revolutions and reform.
Will the world bring her to her knees?
Will love and creativity falter,
Making this Shakti's last dance?
Or will we rise?
Will we remember the magic we have within ourselves?
To lift her up as she has us for so very long.
As delicate as a butterfly's wings.
Quiet and beautiful.
But able to cause a tsunami of change and transformation.
The dance must go on.
And we carry the rhythm in our words,
Our actions,
And our own wild strength.
Leave her to sprinkle the stars.
To be the energy rising.
And set souls on fire.
Let her breathe.
Let her dance.
Let her be.
Let her be.
Let her be.
