Home Spun Goddess

Home-spun Goddesses are born in the urban gardens, remembering their power and rooting in the love of the land and its children. The veil of forgotten wisdom is lifting. Together, we remember that all is well, for the Goddess has never forgotten us.Women of the villages now live in concrete jungles, still tending their young, still caring for all of life. As we shift into Unity, we see that competition was a tool of division and isolation. So take the hands of the women in your life and walk beside them. They too feel the calling in their bones. They too forgot their power—their connection to Earth, to each other, and to the Goddess.Urban Mystics, Wild Women, Dancers, and Singers are moving in our hearts, waking us to the beauty we are. The Muse is alive. She remembers the weaving of golden threads of love, the baskets of abundance shaped by her hands, the bread kneaded and baked in her fire.And then there are the ones called invisible, fragmented, even crazy—the women carrying the wounds of thousands of years of enslavement and abuse. They have not forgotten. They still hold visions of other worlds, brilliance beyond comprehension. They are the seers and the oracles, vibrating at a frequency not yet understood. Out of their minds? Perhaps. But only because this rigid, patriarchal prison cannot contain them, nor the bodies that refuse to submit. They would rather dwell in other worlds than be tethered to the insanity loop of this fabricated reality.They do not fit in, just like the rebels, the warriors, and the midwives who will not surrender. These women rise to defend the generations they birthed and to awaken those still asleep.We are rising too, out of isolation, depression, fragmentation and the cages of domination. We have walked through darkness and forged the path. These forerunners call us to slay our illusions, our victimhood, our addictions to disempowerment. The hall of dark mirrors was never meant to imprison us, but to reflect the eternal light still burning in our eyes and hearts—even if only as embers.And in that darkness dwells the Dark Mother, who inhabits the underworld not to destroy us but to help us grow. She teaches us to heal, to rise, and to rediscover the light that was always ours, the light that cannot be extinguished.

Hear the call, like trumpets rising across the ages. Step forward, beloved one, and enter the circle of the Home-Spun Goddesses.