Society shushes you.
The world labels you and squeezes you into a box.
But the earth itself beckons you.
God, in all her wonder, calls you.
Fire. You are fire.
Let me remind you where you came from, holy fire.
A woman rising from her ashes.
We are the sisterhood of women who preach when we're told to be quiet.
Who are lifting each other off of the ground where we were left to die.
Who are healing each other with sacred tears.
Who are rising up as one voice.
When the world tells you that you're extreme when all you really are is tired of the bullshit, burn on.
When the world tells you to calm down, remember that calm never accomplished anything and we've got shit to get done.
When the world tells you to sit down and shut up, stand taller, push your feet into the earth knowing your place exactly.
When the world says to put it all behind you, tell your story again and louder.
When you're tempted to shrink, be still and know, listen carefully for the sounds of simmering inside.
You are fire. Let her burn, let her rage, tend to her, add kindling, reignite her flames and rage on and on with the fire of sisters before you and sisters all across this weary world.