Wolf woman
Her energy un-comparable to anything man-made,
A visionary of lightning bolts intertwining her stems.
An aura which accentuates all of the senses,
The crescent spotlight of the moon, emulating around the curves of her hourglass temple.
The rhythmic earth which mirrors her cycles through the ever-changing contradicting forecasts of rain- metaphoric to the days spent in salty waters;
lightening, bolting her being & raising her roots from the ground,
What a beautiful metaphor for what wounds her, nourishes her, and keeps her grounded wholesomely.
The hair which coats her essence stands & prickles the air with any sense of risk to the security of the foundations of her pack being torn from beneath the ground of the safe haven they tread & forage upon.
She surrenders to the call of the wild.
Refuses to be apologetic for her natural instincts, sharp tongue & galactic heart drum.
The only way she knows how to be, is with a howl in her soul robustly entangled within the vines, foresight as clear as the skies.
She’s found in the abyss,
her sixth senses never going amiss,
teeth as sharp as the cliffs,
Making you feel like prey, with just one kiss.
She’s a rarity, so sometimes seen as a commodity,
It is her that breathes, creates & bleeds the cycle of life.
She’s found in the sea, the tree’s, your reflection & me.
Begging to be yearned after for more than her artistic silhouette,
or the sought after statement coat, for heroic vulture warriors to gloat.
She walks upon the knowledge that pain is the only teacher greater than mother nature.
Eroding social blue-prints to the generalised human experience.
What a metaphorical concept of beauty, to endure the next step, once she’s set traps for sharp boulders slicing at her salty wounds in dark waters.
Others over-looking her unconditional blinding connection to her pack,
Stalked like prey by those who refuse to step out of predator territory for a day.
Such selfishness which when looked into deeply, can morph into such selflessness.
Corrupted with foreigner’s eyes, unbeknown to the shadows of her curved silhouette in the moonlight.
She’s been bound up, imprisoned for her gold & left with no howling soul.
When observed with her head buried deep into her hands, piercing presumptions
like ‘she’ll stay stuck where you captured her, 6ft below the ground.’
Their black & white vision, unable to fathom what she digs for, is what dominates her.
Preserved, pure, a commitment which roars.
She’ll stand proud still, reach within her & be loud still.
With all her will, she’ll never be left with nil.
She’ll never be struck with fear through the dark rouge stream coming from the fresh wounds,
for she knows the healing that follows,
holds hands with a lesson, a gift, a humanity shift.
Believe it or not, the more slices to her being, the more open doors & visionary dreaming.
Her light, infectious, yet her acceptance of the darkness, contagious.
Daughter of the moon, a tongue of riddles, an astrological mind, never inclined towards stereotypes,
carries herself with the power of intuition.
Hidden hunger for wisdom which erupts, destroying all that we see with the eyes,
so she can come back to her roots & realise,
A devotion to the calling of what it’s like to be alive.
We swim amongst the deepest waters & may only flow with her, once we allow her to open us up & flow into us.
A true embodiment of the ying & the yang, a true epitome of what it’s like to be a wild woman.
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Bonnie lives in South Wales, in the UK and has been writing since she was a child, mainly poetry in order to express the happenings of her inner world, and to move the sensations and thoughts which have been with her through deep childhood trauma. It wasn't until very recently, after having her first child, that she really began bringing awareness to the healing she needed, and with that came honouring herself and her gifts. She writes about the deep, raw, traumatic and healing aspects of our humanness, our cycles, womanhood, and motherhood, interweaved with spiritually and embodiment of our true nature. Above all, she is deeply passionate about holding space for womb-en throughout all of their life cycles, and motherhood. She is a trained Hypnbirthing Teacher, a Pregnancy/postpartum teacher, and in the process of putting her poetry and wisdom into a womb-en's workbook for the otherworldly seasons we ebb and flow through. Her poetry instagram and Pinterest handle is @primalwomben, and for deeper written work on healing, womanhood, poetry, motherhood find her on Medium.
