I am writing this by candle light on a dark and cloudy day. Brother Sun is hidden and I am glad he’s gone. I feel too broken and ancient to stand His piercing eyes today. I want the dark and crave the Hedge.
Like my ancestors of old, the Sisters and Brothers who walked before me, those of the Dark Soul; the Night Walkers, the Invaders of Dreams and the Shakers of the Web, I too, cross the Hedge, seeking solace, wisdom, comfort and all things of Nightmares and horror stories. Here, in this dark realm, is acceptance. There abides creatures like myself; unholy mixtures of the physical and of the Spirit, of light and dark, of evil intent and of good. Malevolence and benevolence turn on a dime, and the whole world pops and flames, on fire with the passion of it all.
Hedgecrossing is that place between worlds, with orthodoxy on one side and chaos on the other. The boundary between the civilized world and the wild one is crossed. Over the Hedge, wild things roam. Ancient, primitive powers rise up after eons and eons of refuge in the dark, finally greeting the dawn, yet this cold light of morning does not hurt the eyes – and it gives no warmth.
There is weeping and gnashing of teeth; terror by day and peaceful dreams by night. All seems to be in reverse. Here, the dark is at home. Here, the night holds no harm. Here, the odd are accepted, the eccentric not judged, and Death is welcomed. The Lord of Misrule and the Goddess of the Damned are crowned, worshipped and obeyed, their thrones surrounded by Entities of unknown origin with clattering nails, slithering tongues and eyes that sparkle with no known light.
All is right with the World.
This is my Home away from home. This is my refuge and a place that causes longing in my weak human heart. One day, I hope to cross……and hope never to return.
“We are the ragged vagabonds, Travellers on the Unknown shores, Where worlds meet, there we go. Where worlds end, there we fly.
Neither here nor there, Black nor white, Alive nor dead.
We are the patchwork promise, The diamond shards of the mirrored gate, Balancing out tomorrow on the back of the past…..
We are the Hedgeriders”…..
“Fly by Night- Craft of the Hedge-Witch” Anthology by Veronica Cummer.
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