The Birth

Do you gaze upon her beauty with awe? This wild- haired wolf woman

As she howls her moon-song, drawn, it seems from some unearthly source.

Or do your eyes turn from the sight of blood-rivers upon her thighs?

Ocean tides surge, threatening to rip apart her very seams,

And you wonder – how can a being survive such a sundering?

Yet she lives. She roars, and she gathers her fragments again and again,

Riding triumphant upon tsunami waves that cannot break her.

See her eyes that witness something you cannot fathom?

She is gazing upon the ancient ones gathered around the cave flame.

They have come to her calling, dancing her, incanting their primal sister-song.

They sing her and her soul responds to their music.

She is gathering the threads of ancient woman-wisdom,

And even as her mouth cries “I cannot do this” she steps further into the fire.

This wild one. This untameable. This hip-spiralling, force of nature.

Do you gaze upon her beauty with awe?


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