Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Pagan
Starry Eyed Witch: Embodying The Morrigan – the Lady at the Ford

Starry Eyed Witch: Embodying The Morrigan – the Lady at the Ford

Last updated on: April 16, 2020 at 3:15 pm by Joey Morris

Starry Eyed Witch: Embodying The Morrigan – the Lady at the Ford 2020-04-16T15:15:47+00:00 Joey Morris

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

I have felt the deep stillness upon me of late, the urge to be silent, and watch, and wait. Submerged in the Other essence that laps around me, flowing out Deathwards and circling my frame. The currents speak of cycles reborn, of blood washing clean of generational wounding, or Prophecy in the water. I lay here like an unborn thing, brazen in my innocence, open to a chasm of secrets; knowing the gulf of nothingness that is the curve of the Ravens’ inner eyes peeking inward, piercing flesh and bone-made gateways. Mother is cawing from the inside.

Image by Lekcej via Canva, slightly edited by the author.

I stepped into this moment willingly, feeling the nip of rage around my heels, a poorly diluted blood wine with a smacking aftertaste. Half of it was not mine to carry, I tipped it to the ground, and spoke of libations to the angry dead; those that howl for the tending of the Cairns and the overt dismissal of life force. Dishonour, and rituals unattended. The peeling skin off their nose. I fed them then and bade them welcome, and spoke of them aloud. I wove stories into prophecy, as She had taught me to long ago, well before I was born into this skin, lessons like an itch at the corner of memory. Blood seeped back into the Earth like a thousand warriors felled at the tip of a spear, as the Raven chews at innards divining all their fates beyond this one. I chewed at my own digestion, questioning where I had sunk my teeth into my own flesh for someone else’s benefit, time and again. Tearing off my own skin for someone else’s benefit; slipping the knife under my jaw to silence my phantom call.

The water runs red with it all, pooling tears that meander across my cheeks, a suffering that was unremarked upon for so long. Another whispers to me of truth; of the belittling of the battles fought, the tarnishing of sacred roles, of numbness setting into the bones and wondering why the spark is faded, and only rage simmers at the sinew. Reasons enough, some fair, some steeped in shadow, bubble underneath, and the water flows.

I have entered world-bought solitude, and met the Hermit residing in the water, the lady with her bloody rags scrubbing off the innards, leaving the insides raw and prostrated. What holy prayer is this, I wonder, gory and unflinching. A thousand tales to tell, all bloody and bare, humanity floating around in pieces. A storyteller who doesn’t balk at the details; the edges of the page all singed in fear and dread, the staining droplets from a hesitant pen that continues on anyway. We write how it is to feel the chasm opening within as we drop off the map, and discover all of our monsters. A tragedy of how we are human.

I stole away to the sanctuary of a well-worn cave. Photo by Janice Li via Pixabay.

For myself, I stole away to the sanctuary of a well-worn cave, where shadows dwell with fungi, and the spiritual ecosystem unfurls across the floor in its bioluminescence. My mind carved out the peaks and falls, and filled the base with black sand. The cedar brushes at the entranceway, bowing down to gale winds and torrents of storm frenzied rain, lashing outwardly in all its fervour. The Banshee on the wind, howling hoarse into the night, wrenching nightmares from sprouting roots. There is a Crow at the window, half in-between the two worlds, yet another shrill warning. I am never ill-advised.

“I came, as You requested,” I speak in low pitched growls. “You called, I came,” She corrects me, battle-scarred and beauteous, a twinkling in her grey eyes betraying her stern lines, “But it is time to listen and call back to your soul.”

How long had it been since I sat with myself, truly, utterly, with myself, and listened to the churning, the gnashing and the pain? My soul had been fluttering and finding itself tattered and run ragged trying to serve, instead serving itself up as a three-course meal for incisors large and small. I have been so lost, for so long, wanting to belong. Another Daughter speaks and says that I attract damaged fireflies who have no light of their own. I cry at the simplicity of it, the truth dripping into my skull. I sink into the sand. The rage is beginning to ground away, reclaimed by an Earth Mother who knows her knife work, where to cut each thread loose and pull. The curved blade flashes in the glimmer, splattering poison against the walls, unyielding precision, deft and swift, until every cord is snapped and shrivelling.

My stomach begins to concave, now that it is empty, and only the hurt remains. I can see it for what it is. Folding in on myself, I wrap layer upon layer inwards, shifting inwards until I can fly again on Raven wings.

Joey, The Starry Eyed Witch

About Joey Morris

Joey Morris is a Celtic Creatrix and UK-based daughter of The Morrigan, working very closely with tree magick and spending much of her time communing and foraging within the spiritual ecosystem. This connection allows her to practice voice witchery and conduit for the Otherworld. “Wild. Ancient. Carefree. Who were we as witches before we learnt what the world told us to be?" To become a tempered blade of The Morrigan, one must be baptized in blood and fire. These struggles within my lifetime have led me to become a voice for the voiceless, to reach out to the broken, and to poke the shadows in others so that they might begin to heal. “Such a path is dangerous. But so are we. This is the birth of a wild witch who sees with their ‘Other eyes’ and treads the path of edges, sharp and unusual, but filled with adventure, magick of the liminal and the in-between spaces.” – Joey Morris Within the spiritual landscape Joey Morris states her soul mission is to deepen the understanding of our interconnectedness by both honouring the sacred and exploring the masks of the self through channeling relationships to the Divine through written work, poetry, videos, products and services. You can read more about the author here.

Previous Post

April 15, 2020

Irish-American Witchcraft: Fairies on TV- What to Watch

Next Post

April 18, 2020 Hadrian’s Garden: How Can I Believe in Monsters and Gods?

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category A Lakeside Hearth Adventures in Wortcunning Alone In Her Presence Arts, Crafts & Cooking Birthing Hereditary Witchcraft Book of Blackbirds Book Reviews Born-Again Witch Cauldron, Sword, Spear, & Stone Cermony and Liturgy Columns Community Dandelion Seeds Dear Jasmine Druid Thoughts Editor's Picks Everyday Pagan Family & Household Practice Family Traditions Full Frontal Magic Gateway Goddess Guest Articles Happily Heathen Health and Wellness Hearth of Hellenism Heathen Woman Hills of the Horizon History Holidays Horse Goddesses Interfaith Interviews Irish-American Witchcraft Jewish Witch Lamp & Labyrinth Letters from Midgard Literature, Media, Film, Music Loop of Brighid Love, Sex & Relationships Magic or Magick Making Light Naturalistic Traditions Nature News Outside The Circle Pantheisticon Politics Prayers, Poems, Blessings & Stories Queer Femme Mystic Queer of Swords Recipes Ritual and Practice Science and Research Seekers and Guides Seeking the Grail Socially Responsible Magic Spear of Athena Star Made Witch Syncretic Electric Technology The Blooming Staff The Busy Witch The Cartomancer The Crow's Nest The Dance of Pagan Recovery The Hearth of Hellenism The Lady's Quill The Other Side of the Hedge The Path of She The Rantin' Raven The Witches Next Door The Zen Pagan Theology, Ethics, Philosophy Tree City Witch Urban Earthwitch Wayfaring Woman Witch on Fire Wyrd Words

Select a Month January 2026 March 2025 December 2024 June 2024 April 2024 March 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 August 2023 July 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What did Jesus cast into a herd of pigs?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Demons Coins Water Leprosy