Rise of the Witches: a poem

When a man does it they call him a prophet,

but when a woman does it they call her a witch

They fear her sight, her truth, her quiet profit,

for sacred power in her hands breaks every script.

They forgot, we all came from women—our mothers

and one day will return to a woman—Mother Earth

The cycle binds our sisters and our brothers,

From blood to bone, from ending back to birth.

The doorway to heaven is held in her form,

Yet they wound her power, distort the norm,

They told her she’s weak, unworthy and lazy,

Confined her to walls, called her fire “crazy.”

They burned her books, her body, and her name,

Midwives, herbalists, blamed for plague and pain,

They called her curse, they called her shame,

While stealing her wisdom, then claiming the gain.

She was the healer long before the white coat,

With roots, with touch, with prayers softly spoke,

Not against the science the future wrote,

But the bridge where spirit and medicine woke.

She knew the language of root and leaf,

of water, breath, and quiet relief,

Not against the clinics, pills, belief,

But the soul medicine science left in grief.

They forgot she is both mirror and amplifier,

whatever is done to her, she returns it higher

Today we rise, proud to call ourselves witches,

Honoring our ancestors and all the women’s riches.

We are daughters of Hecate, Isis, and Brigid’s flame,

Of women erased, yet none untamed,

Call us witches, healers, mothers of change,

We rise remembered — and speak our name.

We live by Dewi Sri’s grace and abundance bright,

With Dewi Gangga’s flow and Ratih’s soft moonlight,

Laksmi’s wealth and Saraswati’s wisdom clear,

And Kali’s fierce truth that we hold ever near.

From Ratu Shima’s justice, sharp and wise,

To Ratu Gayatri’s courage, fire in her eyes,

Through Tribuwana Tungga Dewi’s rule, steady and strong,

And Kanjeng Ratu Kidul of the sea, reigning deep and long.

We cleanse with water at dawn and night,

Mark time by the moon, her silver light,

Lay flowers, rice, and incense just right,

Canang and prayers—small acts, sacred, precise.

Teks oleh Victoria Tunggono 

Pertama kali tayang 21 Desember 2025 di akun IG @ratuvictoria