[Author’s Note: This poem was born of my long struggle with severe hot flashes—not the mild ones that most women experience. This process felt like cruel torture inflicted by my own body, but sometimes I managed to turn a hot flash into a meditative experience. In those moments, the scorching heat became a rising of Kundalini, the sacred energy within. In classical Indian Tantra, Kundalini is a manifestation of Shakti, the Universal Mother. It is also a fire-like energy with the power to transform.]
The fire within rises again,
its red-hot claws seizing me,
its springs of lava
erupting in my veins.
A wave of heat surges once more,
burning away illusions,
a red-hot blade carving through
the mind’s stale intrusions.
It tells the truth one more time:
A woman’s power is a fire.
Our bodies, mirrors of the Earth
our core is filled with magma.
When fire strikes, fire I become.
Sekhmet’s and Hestia’s flame I claim.
Riding the wave, I travel far,
a scorching wind carrying me
to the cradle of humankind.
As fierce sunrays bake my skin,
I stand alone—naked and dark—
my age-old body reveling
in its own fiery power.
Orgasmic tremors seize my spine.
I shake and tremble in ecstasy.
I'm my own lover, making love
to ancient flames within.
I loved all the metaphors you used that brought me right in to the center of the experience! And how you let this heat become a divine epiphany. Thank you for sharing.