Hey Bougie Gang,

This one’s for the wild, wise, and wonderfully complex women you are.

In every heartbeat, in every cycle, in every still moment of silence or surge of fire; there lives a depth, a wisdom, a brilliance that is uniquely feminine.

Today, I am honouring that depth with a poem; a love letter to that essence. To the divine within us. To the stories we carry. To the goddesses who walk with us, and the power we often forget we hold.

Whether you are in bloom or becoming, in softness or strength, in quiet or in conquest; this is for you.

You are plural. You are unique.
Read it slow. Let it speak to your soul.
May these words find you exactly where you are, and remind you of everything you already are.

With plenty of that love you know I hold for you.

A Poem of Feminine Depth 

You rise a thousand times,
from the hush of moonlight,
to the sun’s bold climb.

A tide pulled by silver, your blood in bloom.
You dance in rhythm with the whispering moon.

You are maiden, you are mother, you are crone.
You are spirit and flesh;
muscle and bone.
In your womb, worlds are dreamed and spun,
In your breath, a storm; in your gaze, the sun.

You are

Gaia, the root, the fertile earth’s song.
With soil-stained hands, she holds us strong.
She hums with rivers, she sleeps in trees,
She births the mountain, commands the seas.

You are

Hecate, of crossroads, shadow, and flame,
Keeper of secrets, knower of names.
With torches in hand and wolves at her side,
She walks through the veil where mysteries hide.

You are

Oshun, the golden, sweet honey of light,
She bathes in the river; soft power, might.
She blesses with laughter, with mirrors and grace,
Seduction and softness in silken embrace.

You are the priestess, the warrior queen,
The lover, the healer, the space in between.
You weave with blood, with milk, with tears;
A tapestry sacred across the years.

You are the wild and the whispering sage,
The story untold on each passing age.
The huntress who runs through midnight’s skin,
The oracle murmuring truth from within.

Feminine power; thunder and sigh,
It sings in your bones and paints the sky.
It bleeds and heals, it breaks, it grows,
It holds the world and still softly glows.

So stand in awe, in grace.
You are the infinite, timeless face.
Cyclical, sacred, deep as your womb.
The candle, the storm, the seed, the bloom.

You are true.
You are me. I am you; and all we do.
Not lesser, not shadow, not half, not small;
We are whole.

We are the cradle of all.

If you want to dive deeper into cycle-aligned practices, check out our free guide ; Move With Your Moon: Yoga for Every Phase of Your Menstrual Cycle.

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