Followed by the weed that binds And moths of veiled white Speak to me of ancient trees And gifts of raven sight Hold fast to the dirt trod Earth As you learn to fly Balance is key to all things The rhyme and reason why I have been lost for many years Seeking the unknown Counting blessings and the hurts Of everything I’m shown Morrigan is on the wind The breath and scream of Crow The storm it whips around my heart Where weak men fear to go She places blade into my hand And on my arm a Shield “Go my little wolf,” She cries For we shall never yield…
– J.Morris 2015
Original art by Natalia Drepina