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Where are the courageous women of the galaxy?
Of flesh, blood, and starlight, upholding the integrity of the Earth.
Where are the embodied goddesses protecting that which truly matters?
Why so concerned with a woman in power without the soul of creation?
Where are the grandmothers’ healing hands, catching their daughters’ tears, transforming them into rivers of abundant gratitude?
Women, we have allowed our children to be muzzled, poked, conditioned, and sent to war to kill other women’s children.
So stuck in anger and resistance that we cannot let emotions flow like volcanos to reveal the dark, fertile Earth.
There lies the hidden wisdom of our ancestors protected in the darkness of the Earth’s womb space.
It is trying to move upward—not free—but stifled by the past,
Revealing smoke puffing from a cold chimney, contaminating the lungs of innocent bystanders,
claiming and grabbing illusions of love that we refuse to own.
Our heart is desperate to connect to life.
We have become a raging dragon, spewing fire, swinging our tail, and destroying the world we claim to love.
Stop. Be still.
Close your eyes and open them inward.
Step forward to meet her.
Touch her cheek and look into her eyes deeply, softly, and with fierce intent.
Feel into her every cell.
Melt the ice caps of pain, sorrow, and fear from time beginnings.
Call her broken fragments home.
Embrace her ravaged tentacles and apologise.
Hold her until she calms into a mountain of cherry blossoms.
Tell her you love her.
Listen to her sobbing, releasing, transforming.
Integrate into divinity and receive your purpose.
Heal the world, mother.
Take back your true power and sing.
It has always been in you.