The Witch is a woman devoted to the Wild Nature of existence.
She is the beauty of the cyclical, the howl you sense in the Truth. She is the smell of a fire's smoke, the words in the wind. She is the star filled night and the constant movement of river water over stones. She is the midnight hour, the moon in every phase. She is the depth of the ocean and light when it is shining on bare skin. She is the dirt, the mud, the blood between your legs. The first cry of a child and the last breath ever taken. She is the Sorceress of her reality, re-memberer of ancient ways. She is the hand of the Goddess, the keeper of mysteries. The Witch is the wisdom of what has been born and died one billion times and what will continue to be reborn forever. She has been called a scientist, a philosopher, a feminist, a radical, a Wild, Wild Savage. She has been called crone and chaos, whore and heathen. She has been judged and burned and left to drown. She has been avoided and un-named, over cropped and under fed. Butt still she runs free. She has been threatened, silenced and forgotten, but still she runs free. She is the steady beat of a leather drum, ancient as a bone. She is the constant beat of Earths Heart, always calling us home. She is as alive as ever before, disguised as a summers day. She is the passing clouds, the ripened apple, the only real way to pray. She is the web of the spider, the storm brewing at sea. She is the part of you that will forever Be.