Morrigan Poem by Anne-Christine Johnson

When the crows shriek thier frightening warnings,

When autumn ends, and Winter falls,

You will see a Lady a wondering,weeping through the saddened fields.

She is turning the Silver Wheel of the seasons.

When the crows heed thier endless calling,

Look to the Moon to see a Lady, dancing in the blackened clouds,

And when at night you see her coming, fall in wonder of what

beauty she possesses, and shed your tears.

The Great Queen is walking her footsteps once again.

Morrighan, Morrighan, you’ll call her by name.

When the old earth opens from beneath your feet,

crows will catch you before you fall and place you in Her cauldron,

where rebirth waits and death awakens, your prophecy you will find.

What you see is Her, walking the shadows and howling to the Universe,

forewarning Her arrival.

Black hair falling to Her feet, fill the ocean and become the waves,

Her legs become the forest; Her breasts become the mountains.

Her womb becomes your ancient home.



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