Crown Yourself in Roses "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..." - Joey Morris 'Crow Eyed Woman' It was Morrigan who whispered it, to crown yourself in Roses, deep in the middle of the night, when only the stars winked in their secret knowing, and I, halfway through the gate and certainly not

Here’s to the forgotten ones, The lonely hearts, Those who feel like they’re nobody’s first choice, Who feel like outsiders all day long, Misfits who can’t seem to relate, The fragmented puzzle pieces, The ones who silently observe wishing someone cared, The weirdos, The not so popular anti conformists with loud opinions and bigger hearts, The ones who stick out like sore thumbs, The broken but thriving, Those who aren’t ever given as much as they give, The non in

"I know my Worth. I've paid dearly for every ounce of it." - Alfa Black soot stained feathers brush across my cheekbones, dappling ink across my flesh. Experience is worn, painted on, from the dusty remnants of burning the defunct remnants of a former life, a constant reminder when the sting of memory fades and the tears are all spent. The Goddess Badb will always bring me back to myself, time and again, even when I find myself ashamed in the recalling. Her crow-like shrill

art - Natalia Drepina Beautiful soul who sits on the ledge, Their voice cracked at what they need to express, But feel the icy grip terrorize their throat, Wondering if they name that shame, That burdens their entire being, Causing flooding and earthquakes at a soul level, Will be too much for someone else to hear, to accept. When everyone has taught you that the only safety Is in complete silence And disregard for your pain, How do you find your mettle, and tear op

art - kindranikolephotography Shadow priestess, Walking that space where liminality weaves, Lighting candles from the pain in your knees, You have bent, you have crawled, you have run the gauntlet... And in so doing set fire ablaze from every graze, Follow me, let me lead, I’ve been that way, I know that need. When your heart is broken in places, I shift between all Witch faces. Priestess golden, shining, bleeding, poking the shadow in you too, That becomes a space unfet

Photography Laura beck One of the major lessons of 2018 - connections and community I will be doing a video and possibly transforming this post into a blog post at a later date, but I have a few thoughts that I would love to share with you guys. Community is not something you step into and it’s set; instead community seems to me to be a ripple with ourselves at the nexus. It echoes out from us, and is reflected back to us. It grows, and requires pruning, it needs susten

image - Helen Warner There were two important and deeply personal spiritual mysteries that remained on the tip of my minds' eye this year. One was heard, a whisper on the wind, "to crown yourself in roses," the other was felt, an internal chaos that wrecked havoc within and was only later understood; the phantom death. Both were elusive, like the strands of red thread woven together by the Norns, sisters to the Goddesses of the Underworld. It felt as though the Nordic God

original image - Verren's Dream The lesson of the Hawk mask has taken a longer cycle to comprehend than many of the messages that come from peering through the magical eyes of another; to shift into an energy that is beyond the basic human comprehension of the world in order to glean spiritual insights. Perhaps it is because the Hawk mask speaks to us of perspective; and how can that be a simple lesson? It may have had added difficulty personally, as Goddess Morrigan spoke in

photography - Michael Germosén Primal Woman, I call to you And speak of spitting fire and Ocean tide Swallowed whole by a passion of being And unbecoming The lines in the dark blur into memory Timeless and ageless as salt bought yearning Teeth chatter and chomp through the pages of history Gnashing at an ode to freedom Something in our loins Mystery is not the unknowing But the unlearning of a half measured truth Matted in animal fur and war wounds Spears held tight

image original -Jojopostfashion "Singing to the lost That is the thing I am not a shining beacon I do not guide Thudding of blackened wings foretelling Death Blood weaving entrails Blood soaked prophetic weaving, What entails within those entrails? A savage lust, You would demote us, sanitize us, Saw down our vicious edges, Battle stance to nothing - a lovers grip? We are Befallen We are Fate and Death We are the bone jaw snapping closed A heavy gurgle of mans la

art - Natalia Drepina "You're a shadow priestess, you already know it speaks to the poison already in them and not you..." - Molly Roberts What does it mean to walk the path of a Dark Goddess, when the vibration of your soul, deep in your bones, infused within your very blood, calls out, screams for authenticity, and in so doing births a Shadow priestess? The calling aches and births us from pain, with pain, and for pain, embodying the wounded healer and receiving Chiron's ke

Image - Natalia Drepina source We remember. The lost ones, the broken ones, the hurting. We remember the moments where we stared vacantly out into the world, feeling disconnected from it. Our illusions shattered, the promises of a fair, safe, world dissolving at our feet. For myself, it was a moment in the back of a car, being driven away at 3am, watching the streets light blur into one another in a seemingly endless parade, each light stretching thin and eventually disap

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

I have been musing about how one takes control of ones own sovereignty in regards to the parts of ourselves that we might ‘give away’ in interactions with other people – whether unwittingly or knowingly, and the impact that it has on our selves. With steering the best course so one does not get trampled underfoot of the wants and desires of other people, and yet not to become tyrannical in our approaches. The balance between personal boundary and the urge to support others.