The Birth Of She: Sit In The Circle Of The Rising Wolf-Blooded Woman

By Keren Stanton

She would rather not be told what she should or shouldn’t do. Her ears can’t translate the hate-speak of today. Her’s is a language of the wind in the trees, the babbling brooks, the rushing rivers, a crackling fire, and the calling of the Raven.

The wildness in her bones dictates her moves, not the words of man.

The wind caresses her bare skin. The cold dirt packs beneath her nails — from clawing her way out of a self-created grave, from the Earth-womb.

She has wolf blood in her veins and the fire of the phoenix flickers from her fingertips, like 10 burning candles, as she writhes in moonlight. Dancing, undulating, naked and revelling in her renewal, in her death, and rebirth.

She rages with the oceans, stretches to the tops of the trees, caresses the new grass blades of spring, and allows the hot summer sun on her bare face. Wrinkles be damned. She speaks to the birds, the creatures, and to flowers. She delights in the downpour soaking skin, knowing her heart-fire will take over when she is done.

She did not ask for understanding or acceptance.
She simply is.
She belongs to no one.
She belongs to everyone.

She bares her teeth, and the world cover its ears.
Her silence breaks and her truth pours forth.
Like the howl of a wolf, an ancient melody, a piper’s song, a prayer.
A haunting call to her sisters, to the feminine.
To the ladies-in-waiting.

And she cries and asks, “What are you waiting for?”

Not permission.
Not answers.
Not validation.

She does not care to be pretty.
She does not care to be wanted.
She is already enough.
She doesn’t give a f*ck.

She simply is.

And so she stands, dirty and naked,
freed of the mantle of condemnation.
In one hand she holds a sword.
In the other, a bright lantern.
And she beckons to you.
She knows you have been waiting.

Come, and sit in her circle.
For now is The Rising.

The time has come.

For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends Women Who Run with the Wolves.


Keren Stanton

Keren Stanton is a wild woman, shedding off the too-tight skin of suburbia and the rigid mantle of the condemnation of Man. Most in love with the forest, the smell of the dank earth, she is committed to the soul-work of holding a lantern aloft in the darkness, whether that light shines a path out of the darkness or a way to walk deeper into it. She doesn’t have the answers, but she does know the way. She wears the title of Witch with pride and honor, as it is her birthright and the only name that fits. She knows that true love is fierce love and that giving up on her dreams and her message is never an option. And so she speaks.

  1. Strong, magical, inspiring. Thank you for sharing these words with us.

  2. Tanya Markul

    Aho! Blessings, soul sister! I LOVE you here! XOXO

  3. amazing wonderful words xxx

  4. Keren!!! I love this piece and adore you!

  5. I absolutely love this! It resonates deep within. I am rising with you Sister!

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