When My Chakras Began to Shine

There was a night I realigned—

not in a yoga pose or perfect chant,

but in the tender hum between inhale and forgiveness.

The stars seemed to whisper,

“Finally, she remembers she’s divine.”

My root, that red ember of belonging,

glowed steady—no more prolonged survival, but sovereignty.

It pulsed to the rhythm of my ancestors’ feet,

reminding me: you are home even in motion.

My sacral—oh, that wild orange moon—

danced barefoot, dripping honey and laughter.

It hummed love songs to my hips,

to my pleasure,

to every “too much” I once tried to tame.

The solar plexus rose—gold, confident, radiant—

a sun that no longer apologized for shining.

It winked and said, ‘Darling, power suits you well.’

My heart blossomed next—

Green and pink, open like dawn.

It loved without ledger or logic,

because love itself is the curriculum,

and I, finally, am a devoted student.

Then came the truth-teller—my throat,

a sapphire river clearing old debris.

No more shrinking.

No more swallowing the sacred.

Every word now drips with intention,

with poetry, with prayer.

My third eye, indigo and infinite,

saw through illusions—

not to escape this world,

but to adore it more honestly.

Vision became devotion.

Clarity became compassion.

And my crown—violet, bold, unbothered—

laughed softly,

pouring light like champagne through every cell.

Divinity kissed humanity

and said, We are not two, we are one.

Now, I move like a poem the universe wrote for herself,

romantically radiant, cosmically grounded.

My chakras shimmer like lovers at dawn—

aligned, alive,

and unafraid to shine too bright.

Because this is what happens

when a woman remembers she is sacred—

she doesn’t just glow,

she illuminates the world—

Sherley Delia

Healing Majestically Consultancy