There have always been women’s hips

Through centuries of sunrises and sunsets,

There have always been women’s hips.

Hips swaying under the stars,

Dancing to the rhythm of the wind,

Singing the songs of our ancestors,

Worshiping the very life they create.

Before man discovered fire and electricity,

There have always been women’s hips.

Hips beaming with fire and light,

Exuding aliveness.

Source of renewable energy,

The reason for evolution

And incentive for revolutions,

The birthplace of desire,

Hips blossoming, seducing, inviting, receiving.

Wild, innocent hips.

Waves of change ripple across the planet

Like earthquakes,

Every time a woman shakes her hips.

Before the invention of the telescope or Einstein’s theory of relativity,

There have always been women’s hips.

Hips navigating new territories and opening to unknown places,

Hips throbbing with creativity,

Hips that invented inventors.

Hips that ruled countries,

And hips that ruled the rulers of countries.

Hips held captive by ideas

And hips that could not be contained.

Hips that carried us home.

Before there was tantra,

Before there was pornography and prostitution,

There have always been women’s hips.

Hips giving birth to the senses,

To eyes, ears, mouths, noses, and lips.

Hips intimate with pain and writhing with pleasure.

Hips that gave everything,

And hips that held back,

Shamed hips, numb hips,

Hips revered and respected,

Abused and exploited,

Hurt, healed, loved and feared,

Hips that have tasted tongues

And hips that have tasted razor blades,

Hips frozen in fear,

Hips afraid to open,

And hips fully awakened to their power.

Through world wars and cold wars,

Through genocide and suicide,

Through poverty and famine,

There have always been women’s hips.

The beginning of sorrow,

The first spark of hope.

Hips shedding blood and tears

In rhythm with the moon,

Mourning the monthly death of potential life,

Guiding us into the darkness.

Hips birthing saints and murderers,

Lovers and fighters,

Hafiz and Hitler.

Hips birthing hungry children,

Hips birthing slaves and their oppressors.

Hips birthing freedom.

Hips trembling with the pulse of life.

Before there was geography,

Before there was science,

There have always been women’s hips.

Hips of every spice and every flavor:

Rose hips,

Shy hips,

Soft hips,

Bony hips,

Clumsy hips.

Arab hips,

African hips,

Palestinian and Israeli hips,

Jewish and Christian hips,

Atheist hips,

Faithful hips, promiscuous hips,

Brokenhearted hips.

Silent hips,

Silenced hips,

And hips with French accents.

Universal, unconditional hips.

Through the endless cycle of

Birth, old age, sickness, and death,

There have always been women’s hips.

Hips that have been the keepers of hidden temples.

Hips with a timeless, unspeakable wisdom,

That has birthed history

And will birth the future.

Hips within hips within hips

Darkness within darkness

The gateway to all understanding.

Hips pregnant with possibilities

And intimate with the truth.

Hips that have passed down the secret of the universe

In a language

Hidden in hieroglyphics of sensation,

Decoded every time a woman

Inhabits her hips.

~ Poem by Dominique Youkhehpaz

Dominique Youkhehpaz is a student of Awakening Women and the founder of Self-Marriage Ceremonies, a practice of committing to live what matters to us and what we know to be true in our hearts. This poem is the fruit of her practice during the Yogini Paradise Retreat in Corfu. You can visit her website at

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