Morrigan – Oil on Canvas

by Suzi Edwards-Goose

“Where talons rip and wrench and tear,
See her shadow standing there. . .
At moondark when the battle moans,
The raven comes to pick the bones. . .
Carrion claws through flesh are sliding,
When Morrigan the wind is riding. . .”

-Suzi Edwards-Goose

You can learn more about Suzi’s work or contact her via her website and her facebook page:

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Beyond the Veil by Alicia Lavoie

Beyond the Veil

Cloaked by twilight darkness,
Ancestral whispers swirl around me
On widdershin tornadic winds,
While crows dance overhead,
Their glossy black wings caressing
Rough thundercloud-peaked skies.

Cawing Raven, fathomless depths –
The Morrigan calls to me:
“I am within and without you,
Our breath united between worlds,
Where losing center brings you home
To the forged connection between us.”

I mourn for blood spilled
By repeated fists against delicate skin,
My voice silenced by cries of pain
As I fought to right myself years ago,
Seeking balance at labyrinth’s altar –
A yearning to find that lost girl.

The primal Sovereign stirs then quakes
Inside Her earthly cauldron,
Shattering life’s veil of illusion;
And it is here, in this liminal place,
Where I offer up my insecurities
Before the Morrigan’s raised sword.

Alicia Marie Lavoie

About – Grounded in eastern Connecticut, Alicia is a caregiver, herbalist, Reiki master, soul midwife, witch, and writer. She earned a Bachelor of Arts in political science and a minor in journalism from Johnson State College in 2003 and a certificate in herbalism from Wisdom of the Herbs School in 2013. She walks with the Morrigan, Brigid, and Freyja, attempting to live each day in the present moment.

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by Caoimhin Ó Coileáin
What made Scathach
That vampire born?
How did the grey queen,
Spend her youth once before,
She settled on the Far Isles?
Before she became a warrior,
And was cowed by no man,
And yet stood still by the Hound’s side.
Before that was she a maid acower?
Scathach was not born
As the warrior lady but that she became,
Whose ice came first through fire
She grew and hardened,
From mewling frightened wretch.
What mysteries made Scathach,
That trainer of heroes,
Both brothers by blood and sword,
Whose love tamed the wild Cuchulainn
Who brought to him a complete soul?
To stand down the Connacht men unashamed
To face the Crow and spit in her face unafraid,
The Setanta became with her a man not just a warrior,
With her he became one true soul
About: Caoimhin Ó Coileáin’s ‘Scathach’ is from his anthology Fenian Whispers (forthcoming). You can find him on Facebook at Caoimhin Ó Coileáin.
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Warrior Heart

Heart warming
Fire of our heart
Our very own hearth
There are so many layers of heart
Peeling off those layers has become my work
Facing that which is present, when the layer falls away
When did these layers become what I knew?
Each layer offers feeling as it falls
My heart beats like butterfly wings; fragile, beautiful, open, sensitive, strong.
I reclaim the inner-most part of my being, my hearth.
My hearth fire roars and burns with passion.

About: Brooke Ravenwood is a priestess of the Morrigan, her work is reclamation, through rekindling fires within and supporting journeys towards sacred sexuality. Contact by email: brookeravenwood [at]

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Prophecy of the Morrigan

Translation by Morgan Daimler.

Peace to sky.
Sky to earth.
Earth below sky,
strength in each one,
a cup overfull,
filled with honey,
sufficiency of renown.
Summer in winter,
spears supported by warriors,*
warriors supported by forts.
Forts fiercely strong;
banished are sad outcries
land of sheep
healthy under antler-points
destructive battle cries held back.
Crops [masts] on trees
a branch resting
resting with produce
sufficiency of sons
a son under patronage
on the neck of a bull
a bull of magical poetry
knots in trees
trees for fire.
Fire when wished for.
Wished for earth**
getting a boast
proclaiming of borders***.
Borders declaring prosperity
green-growth after spring
autumn increase of horses
a troop for the land
land that goes in strength and abundance.
Be it a strong, beautiful wood, long-lasting a great boundary
‘Have you a story?’
Peace to sky
be it so lasting to the ninth generation

*scíath means shields but also “fighting man, warrior, guardian”. The usual translation here is given as shield, but I prefer the imagery that comes with warrior, however it may also be taken as “spears supported by shields, shields supported by forts”

** alternately “wished for by flesh”

*** this line “boinn a mbru” is often translated as “calves in wombs” or something similar, assuming boinn should be boin or boinin – calf, and taking bru as womb. I believe in this case boinn is actually ad-boinn, a form of apad meaning to declare or proclaim, and bru here means boundary or border. I think this makes the most sense in context with the preceding and following lines.


Translation by Morgan Daimler, reblogged with permission from Living Liminally. You can also find Morgan on Facebook and Amazon.

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