The Monthly Magic: A Woman's Silent Symphony

 

Wrapped in silence, a monthly tide,

A natural rhythm, where souls reside.

Crimson flows, a sacred dance,

A cycle of strength, a lover's chance.

The moon's soft glow, a gentle phase,

Mirrors the woman's wondrous ways.

A time of renewal, of grace divine,

A sacred space, truly feminine.

With every month, life's blood runs free,

A symbol of power, wild and carefree.

Though whispers may rise, and shadows may creep,

This cycle is beauty, a promise to keep.

Through pain and discomfort, a strength we hold,

A story untold, a future bold.

In each crimson drop, a history's trace,

A lineage of women, a graceful grace.

Connected by cycles, a mystical bond,

In this monthly shedding, our spirits respond.

Let's honor this journey, embrace the true,

The blood that flows, forever new.

More valuable than any shed by kings,

A testament to life, to all it brings.

With laughter and tears, we stand as one,

In this sacred experience, beneath the sun.

For every ebb and flow, a gift divine,

The miracle of life, a love sign.

The cycle's rhythm, a steady beat,

Nurturing life, forever sweet.

With pride we embrace, this natural art,

In every cycle, a new life's start.

Poetic Reflections of a Crazy Soul