“When your womb calls, heed her message.
When she throbs with you, touching fingers with your heart beat.
Dig your toes deep into the soil.
When she calls out pulsing, calling you to come home.
Open for her in dreamscapes.
Painted red, let your love flow.
Painted red, let your blood flow.
When your womb calls.
Pull yourself from the rusted halls of the mind. Where your wounds are kings, and body is sin.
Heed your womb as she guides you to your gold.
Link fingertips with sisters across endless nations.
As naked feet pulse under the moon light, and stars nurse on virgin teats.
When your womb says walk away, walk.
For even the sweetest songs carry sour symphonies just outside the keen reach of the most penetrating eyes.
When your womb says stand.
May you rise.
For the world longs for your light song to turn them on.
Forget not that rising voice deep inside.
That voice calling from the very core of you. Calling you to empty of the fading ways.
To mend your self of false loves, and playing small in another’s backyard.
When you stand you set the world on fire.
You are the soil, and the sky.
Remember you are love.
You are union made one.
When your womb calls heed her.
For she is that which all that is has sprung forth.