He's always with us,of course, but now as his footsteps slow and start coming back to where we wait, we are far more aware of him.
Looking up, I see the Pied Crow swoop to a landing on the cellphone mast. He fixes me with one eye, leans into the wind and caws at me. My own bright and dark messenger of the gods.
Hermes, Toth, Odin, Corvus Albus. He leads off in the sky and guides our soul. Until the day he stops, looks around and sees us paused back there, somewhere behind him.
He walks back to us, slowly at first, gathering speed.
What is it you've forgotten, little one? He asks. What would you like another look at, another chance to do over and do right?
Mercury Retrograde. Inspiration by Robert Wilkinson
Don't forget that the Morrigan is not so benign a psychopomp. The souls she reaves off battlefields generally would most likely have much that might have better been differently done, not that such matters to her.
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