You feel it in your bones.

The slow, ancient pulse.

The heat rising from your belly, the primal fire of your lineage.

 

You are a living bridge – the raw, trembling edge where the iron core of Gaia hums, the devic whispers of blood and bone sing, and the sacred light of divine geometry pulses through your cells.

 

You are the one they wrote about in whispers and prophesies.

The one who would rise from the ashes of fractured timelines, weaving the threads of the forgotten back into the fabric of this world.

 

You are the pulse of a thousand mothers.

The roar of a million untamed daughters.

The breath of the first woman who ever felt the earth under her bare feet and knew she was free.

 

This is your becoming.

This is your return.

This is your sacred yes to be witnessed.