WILD WOMAN RISING by Clare Gately

The theme of empowerment for women is very important to me…

As I reflect on the many women I know and have met in my life I find it staggering the amount who have low self esteem and little confidence. It's pandemic. This poem came from a place of asking myself what would an empowered women look and feel like? When we have that vision then we can aspire to it. This poem embodies the kind of woman I want to be and maybe come close to on a very good day!

Oil on canvass "Her Journey" by Gaia Orion

Wild Woman Rising

by Clare Gately

She entered the room

Everyone’s gaze was pulled to her like a magnet

She had it

That quality that is hard to define

She has the recipe that every woman wants

She inhabits her skin fully

Warmth flows form her

She is nourishment

All are drawn to her like bees to a flower

Wanting her nectar to feed them

She wants nothing but could have it all

She has no interest in being adored

She has found the spring inside and just keeps spilling over

She sees you

She sees the secret wounds you carry

She recognizes the scars

She understands why you have retracted into a corner

Inside yourself, trying to keep safe

She stretches out a hand, offering a drink from her well

Spilling out her strength and power

Offering you her wisdom

Drawing you up off your knees to stand beside her

She is all woman

Fierce, strong, gentle and wise

She has risen from her own ashes

A phoenix in the sky.

(This poem originally appeared in Clare Gately's book

Wild Women Rising: A Call To Love Healing And Empowerment)

Oil on canvass "Mother Nature" by Gaia Orion

Clare Gately is an author, numerologist and Interfaith Minister. She is author of Wild Women Rising: A Call To Love Healing And Empowerment. She lives in Edinburgh, Scotland. You can check out her blog Soul2Soul Food here and her Soul Numerology site here.

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Comments

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience. Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with. I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night. I am the tough green

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I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me slow down until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without

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