image - Adam Bird Photography "It hurts," I cried. "I know," replied the Witch of my soul, "And look, the Forest beckons." So it did, once more, a thick underbrush of reckless vines, criss-crossing the broken parts, stitching them anew. The churned Earth seemed to crumble underfoot, loose and unstable, broken down from all the wandering back and forth, back and forth, without real rest. "The roots remain, deeper down," she croaked, knowing what was in my mind of course,

original image - christian-felices-citrus-tree-photography-the-crow That’s the thing about the Crow eyed women With their lips bedecked in otherness You might think for a moment they are infused with whimsy But Morrigan made them with steel bones We endure beyond the point of breaking And underestimate us at your own risk We speak for the heart of the wild ones Teeth bared to raise up a snarl Magick without heart is autopsy The mask of the cruel slips and falls Ho

The Cailleach “Bloody teeth and wizened fingertips, a Holy unholy sight, hobbling and hopping across the border, Alight and brazen, aching to be something Other, Older, Wiser, Starting once again, In the bowels of the Earth in the depths of Winter but never lifeless, not even in Death, Mad with knowledge, empty vessels poured out on the naked land, renewed. Everything is beyond the grasp of the fearful, embody fear instead, and howl, scream out into the night…” – The Cail

Art – Bojan Jevtić Sight from the Morrigan Needle claws Across my eyes Blood drenched rivers Flow across my arms Blink to black then white Crow sight There stands a woman covered In soot and darkness dirt Blacked by the flames Of fields once quickened Rise and rise again Paid for in sacrifice Blade across the throat Screaming out Crow speak Tempered never in robes of magnetic fury Cascading in ember burnt husks of glitter Do you think you know what it means

“…I hear her scream Guttering The pitch black chord of night I am her and She is me…” – Joey Morris Woad Warrior Never in human history has the screaming been so silent. The sanitization of modern society impresses on the individual the need for silence to such a degree that the verbal act of screaming is relegated to films concerning horror. The Horror genre is generally considered to be a psychological pressure valve for social and cultural concerns within the human p

Image source – Lost in the Darkness by Natalia Drepina How beautiful is the Darkness, where our shadows are simply part of us without separation, and we breathe in the essence of the Universe in void; in potential, in endless possibility… As Alban Hefin (Midsummer) approaches I become more acutely aware of the Darkness; as the brightness takes over, the blinding light scorching through the curtains disturbing sleep, and as a result my heart yearns to be cocooned once again in

Can’t lie to the seer who dreams in Crow tongue Can’t take back the future when it’s already done Can’t shade the soul whose sound in their core Can’t fool the Goddess She’s been here before. -Joanne Morris all my own work and design, all rights reserved Image from pinterest #po #poet #poetry #poem #power #criw #deathcrow #crow #themorrigan #morrigu #morrigan

Image -nataliadrepina.deviantart.com There is blood beneath your fingertips Stained once more with dirt The nectar that fills your veins Reminds you what is worth The howling tale upon the wind The Crow cries out for war Tattered wings and battered things A cavern all aglow Shadows deepen calling out Reminds you what’s at stake Crashing waves against the rock Don’t break Don’t break Don’t break – Joanne Morris 2017 All my own work and design all rights reserved #

Survival of a Crow Hearted Girl Clawing at my back down to the bone to try and find my soot stained wings Blood in the welts Of where they lashed Badges of honour from a battle long fought Tearing my skin To draw out my chain Remembering that I could fly once Screams in the night Memories resurrect Hearing the call to run until I ache Until my feet crack Until my knees fail Until the ground swallows me whole – Joey Morris 2016 All my own work and design all rights r

Art by – Dan Burgess I stand by the gate Clad in Starlight Howling deep into the void There is a map somewhere In the Cosmos A reciting of which can be heard Wolf eyes alight in the telling Heart aching deep in my chest I’m longing to run, As ever I’ve done When your voice dream speaks to my soul False signposts are scattered all over Rotting along with the mire Those cutting words seem so absurd When my heart sings along with my soul Twilight shifts into doorways Witchcraft

(Image sourced from Weheartit Original unknown.) And so Mother I find myself on bloodied knees Singing of your reverence Unafraid of the bruises that mar my skin Unhampered by the thorns that pierce Or the roots that bind For they are fleeting distractions For those of Corvid wings The blue on my skin turns to spirals Swarthing through flesh and bone For amidst the sundering, somewhere I will become whole Though I am shattered glass Broken, yet piercing, I am st

Original Art –Boneyard. Photo by alexstoddard on Flickr The illumination of the relationship between Witchcraft and bones seems inevitable in the wake of this year of Death. As we enter the final months of 2016 and Winter begins to take a hold, thoughts turn to the Solstice, banishing the difficulties of months gone by, and celebrating the painful lessons that have been dished out like bitter candy over and over again. The motifs of bones, skulls, and the archetypal Witch thr

Original art by Daniel Vazquez Badb I see you stalking through my dreams With Birch wizened teeth And howling Chords I see the twisted visage Wracked with pain and expectation I feel my bones crack and snap A bleeding heart “Chaos is my gift,” she croaks I know that the cocoon is splitting Tearing me apart Blood in my lungs with every breath Bruised knees crawl Dirt soaked and shivering Truth unyielding Breaking Into something new and old I have never lied do

Original art – Sorceress. The Goblin Ball: Ice Kingdom – Sat 22 June 2013. Melbourne, Australia Invoking Badb, Crone aspect of Morrigan. “I am the War Crow I am the Death Crow I am Badb. And you will fall before me.” -Joey Morris 2015 #badb #death #deathcrow #crow #raven #wolf #witch #witchcraft #goddess #themorrigan #morrigan #morrigu