The night was dark and the wind was high,
And away in the distance rose a roaring,
Of some beautiful nightmare lullaby.

My soul lifted and for a moment I thought it would be,
That I could fly and scream and rage,
That this mortal form would fall and I’d join the Sluagh Sidhe.

Through the sky,
Over the land,
And to the sea.

To ride with Him who knows my dark places,
Be embraced by He who is the darkness,
To storm with Him from where balls song races.

With Her, to blaze in terrible glory,
With She whom we all stream beneath,
And all the men from our ancient stories.

But I can’t deny Their voices so blunt,
No matter my cravings or wishes or wants,
This night is not my hunt.

The older I get, the less often I feel the disquiet of my soul craving for things that aren’t so mortal or human. But some nights, it’s like I can hear a call deep within my chest and I become restless and emotional. Despite the full moon only days away, it’s dark here tonight because of the heavy cloud cover. The trees will stand silent and then suddenly roar with movement and energy. And I want top forget that I’m an adult with a life that fulfills me and I want to run off into the woods following that wild call. There is so much to this boiling that rages through me, but I know most of it will be burned away in the light of morning. So I pour out this offering of wilding spirit to my Gods, particularly the dark side of Them that I believe also rages on a night like this.