A longed-for reconnection is taking place inside me. I can feel it in my flesh and bones. I can feel it at the core of my heart as grief, pain and longing are stirred and mixed, like in natural alchemy, to create a deeply felt love and passion.
A wild woman is emerging from the depths of my soul.
Her wildness is not fierce (even though it might be if needed). She is wild as in non-domesticated. Untamed. Uncorrupt. The rules of the world we know does not apply in hers.
The reality in which she resides is not static. It’s shifting and changing in a state of constant metamorphosis. Her world is ruled by natural laws and the rhythm of the Earth herself. Her body as well as psyche is in tune with the nuances of recurrent cycles and natural processes.
She is timeless.
Her face shifts and changes. Sometimes she looks like a young woman. Other times she is as old as life itself. Her eyes are as wise as in the oldest of crones, yet shine with the pure innocence of a newly-born.
Every twist and turn of the world below and the labyrinth of psychic realms are known to her. She guards the gate of initiation into true womanhood.
She cares not for worldly beauty. The ideals and aesthetics of the day-to-day world are of no interest to her. In fact, she has no ideals. Beauty stems from the diversity of the natural world. What is beautiful to her must also be true, real and raw.
A wild Beauty is shared between her and the Earth itself.
She is beautiful without any need to be admired. She is seductive, but doesn’t seduce. She is powerful, but doesn’t use it to empower her ego.
In tune with her heart I bend down on the ground. I can hear it beat. Slowly… so slowly. With deep passion I ask: How can I serve you? How can I make you visible in the day-to-day world? How can I clothe your wild Beauty? This world is so hungry to remember.
And then, almost as if my life depends on it, I listen…