Recently, visions of Kali draw near—

The fierce, untamed goddess whom most look upon with fear.

Yet where others shrink back, I am healed and inspired,

In her dark, blinding radiance, I am seen and empowered.

I feel a deep love that is ancient and real,

A presence that cuts through the lies that would heal.

My grandmother sits on the edge of the dark,

In her eighties, they say, she is losing her spark.

“Her time is now short,” so the whisperers say,

“She is bound to her bed, she will pass any day.”

Yet each time they write off the strength in her bones,

She rises like embers from cold, heavy stones.

She rises not simply because she is strong,

But because to her nature, such triumphs belong.

She’s the fiercest of fighters, the baddest alive,

The wildest, the funniest, built to survive.

Though her body grows fragile, her spirit stays sharp,

A warrior’s breath playing death like a harp.

She fools every shadow that creeps through the door,

The strongest soul left on our ancestral floor.

For centuries, ignorant men of the world

Kept the flag of the sacred, wild mother unfurled—

They suppressed every fire, demanded her silence,

Fearing her truth and mislabeling her violence.

They try taming wolves into slaves for their own gain,

For a slave can be used, can be held in a chain—

But the feminine wakes now, far fiercer and fast,

Reclaiming the glory denied in the past.

To rise is to know her own power at last.

Like a mother who plays touch-and-go with the dark,

To deliver new life through her labouring heart—

In that moment of blood, as the infant crawls out from the womb,

A mother is birthed back to life from the tomb.

She brings forth the child to step onto the earth,

And reclaims her own soul in the moment of birth.

And that is why Kali arrives in the night:

To reveal the truth that’s been hiding in plain sight.

She doesn’t wait meekly for quiet or peace—

She stomps on the falsehoods to demand your release.

She dances through wreckage of weak-willed men,

To crown the wild warrior women again.

A quick shout out to Carla Kuhlmann, thanks for sharing this post on Kali and Dasa Mahavidya on Instagram. Carla has has completed 500 hours of Tantric Sadhana. These are inspired by Dasa Mahavidya. The algorithm seems to be bringing me closer to Kali:

“Bring me your shame.

Bring me your guilt.

Bring me every illusion you mistake for yourself.

I feast on everything

that stands between you and your liberation.”

“Don’t tame your desire.

Burn away everything that keeps you from it.

Desire and pleasure is life

remembering itself through you.”

“You call is loss.

I call it expansion.

Every identity I take from you

makes room for the infinite eternal.”

“I am the dark mother.

I do not protect your comfort.

I protect your truth.

Everything else.. chop chop”

“I wear ten avatars.

One will seduce you.

One will shatter you.

One will silence you.

One will make you roar.

Everyone of them will return you

to your true self.”