I am the Hag of Death, child. I laugh at your fearsome hearts. I laugh for what one does to perceive the impossibility of denying the cycles of death. My message is clear - that no-one shall avoid the ultimate transformation of death; irrevocable change, ultimate renewal, passed burning decay, beyond the burning pyres. I am the limitless death that greets your ultimate descent into me.

Time does not concern me for I have no mind for concerns. Your worldly ways mean nothing to me. They do not apply here in my domain. Can you not see even now that I am the holder of the domain of the ultimate renewal that midwife’s rebirth? I am magical beyond your human consumption and the frailties of the human condition. I am freedom. For I am the midwife of death, beyond the purification fires of the Dark Mother, the Black Mother, beyond even her sword of whirling, cutting and breaking, free the limitations that chain you to the wheels and the strands of the self, so self serving in your entwined small worlds of the entrapments that deny the very flow of existence!

You arrive here to me for there is no other place to be. You cannot reach here too fast or too soon. No, you come unto me after the final completion of tasks has been passed through. I am your midwife at the grave site. I am the silence after the funeral fire has consumed you; what remains come unto me. I am Death Hag.

I am the moment beyond midnight; the space before dawn; the quiet rest of the un-manifest. The magic here is transformative and mighty and although you may have wishes, wants and desires they are lost in the deafness of my domain. I do not appease nor entertain limits of the human condition. I am not here to soothe or to cajole. I am not a personality although I have traits. I am not human so be wary to waste your time here in conversation and bargaining. You arrive into my Medicine to be transformed and reshaped as the Great Mother decides not for you to bargain with whimsical magical fantasies of your so perfect desires. You arrive here as a gift and a gift is not to be bargained. Remember this for it shall be back to the fires should you identify from the bounds, out of this process, out of this domain.

I am summoned by some but I arrive even less for I cannot be summoned by will alone. I am not of that nature. I am beyond your calls for I do not serve to appease. You may well fear me but that is only of your own heart’s unwillingness to understand the gift you are offered. I am at the end of a journey that precedes the new birth, a true gift indeed, for if one never meets me then much there is to do in the fearing world of ones own entrapment.

I am paradoxical, for to see me, or to know me, is to know the truest manifestation of transformation of the once former self. Let go and be as reborn anew, nothing can harm you in my domain only the resistance of the self. Always harm comes back on the self and yet ultimately it always comes back to the higher order of things. You shall enter into my domain unknowingly or I shall come greet you and usher you in. The journey has need in some regard, the initiation complete in some way, finality of what has once been has passed, now the transformation and regeneration is to be realized in my domain, over what I govern you shall experience death, not of the physical necessarily although I can meet those there too.

My magic is of a high order for I am above and beyond the human condition and I move not even with the seasons that represent me for I am beyond your worldly experience but am reflected in the subtleties of it. My magic and Medicine is the paradox of birth and the human soul rarely sees this as they greet and enter into me. Come into my thighs where life now appears bleak, where once lay the comfort of the moist and the red, which once stirred with vigor and sensuality, now holds a different hue, the scent is now not salty it is the scent and vibration of death itself, of deafening silence, where the cauldron has ground down the old self, increment by increment, now you see only the blackness of the cavern of which one must enter and be born anew. The passage is unknown, the territory never familiar, for I am the mystery of the dark night, and the mystery of the Dark Mother, the Black Mother, in her death phase and remember child that it is paradoxical for I am the truest nature of impregnation. You may fight this place but there is little hope for you, the frenzy is lost here, the insanity that begs you to pay it attention is only the act of deep mistrust in the communion with the Great Mother herself, for all acts are from her and even insanity has its place here in the cavern.

I am the dark, mysterious letting go, the in-between breaths, the space where one knows not if the next inhale will arrive. My passage is of the utmost importance should I call you for failure to undertake and to resist my process of renewal shall bring one to insanity of the human condition for this passage, my passage, is the natural order of all things. I am blackness; I am the holder of the un-manifest; I am deafening silence; I am the space of nothing. Come unto me and be steeped in the magical medicine of irrevocable change that brings rebirth and your life that reflects that the death is complete.

Should I visit you then honour your calling for the Death Hag herself has summoned you to be midwived, with my assistance to become no longer what you are but who you are destined to be. Walk solemnly towards me, or dance and smile, I am the gift, the sign that the cycle has ended and all things shall be born anew.

Smile at death for in life one must come to know the taste and scent of the bittersweet.

Death hag X