A Prayer For The Softened Woman

To the woman whose heart has cracked open
not once, but a thousand times—
this is for you.

For the one who has tasted grief in her marrow
and still chooses to rise,
with saltwater eyes and trembling grace.
The one whose body tells stories in scars,
in curves, in silence, in songs
only the Earth remembers.

To she who came here
not to follow paths
but to crumble them—
to gather the dust and lay new stones,
ritual by ritual, breath by breath.

The softened woman—
not weak, not small,
but vast in her yielding.
The one who holds fire in her belly
and softness in her hands.
She who walks barefoot across thresholds
the world cannot see.

May you remember, love—
you are the cycle breaker,
the shame dissolver,
the wild prayer whispered
through ancestral winds.

You are not bound by old blueprints.
You are here to build temples
from presence, from tears,
from ancient knowing
and future codes.

May your softness be your compass,
your stillness, your strength.
May the technology of your intuition
guide you through the noise.
May your sacred “yes” echo louder
than fear ever could.

You are not meant to carry it all—
you are meant to alchemise it,
to midwife a new way
with fierce devotion and gentle hands.

And when the world forgets what love feels like,
may it remember through you.

And so it is.

With tenderness,

Annalisa Siefken
Aiya Inanna | Sacred Transformations