A cyclic state in tune with the moon. She gazes down upon me as I lay open and bleeding and tender and grateful. Life force energy flows from between my thighs, a phenomenon as old as time. Feminine beings across the earth have bled in sync with Mama Nature since existence began. I bask in this oneness and stand before my altar to begin my ritual.

I take my herbs and my oils and my full moon water and combine into a sacred concoction. Draining the herbs from the mixture, I create a small vessel of potion to use upon my own vessel of existence. Ancient drumbeat and burning sage fill the air as I smear the potion over my belly and breasts, awakening my ancestors.

I am honouring my womb. Honouring my womanhood. Honouring my mama who bled, then birthed my being, then bled again, before the universe sealed her portal shut for this lifetime. And her mama, who did the same. And her mama. And her mama.

Mama Nature beckons me into motherhood, eagerly awaiting seed to bring forth life. I’m not yet ready, mama, not yet. Instead I bleed and bleed with tender breasts and tender heart. I am still the maiden, not yet the mother. One day I will bring a being into your earthly planes. One day. One day I will embody the crone. One day I will return to the earth. But not yet, mama. Not yet.

For now, I bleed.