Crow Queen

An elegant queen dissolving into a dark murder of feathers and beaks regards you with obsidian eyes that penetrate illusions. As her human form is fading, the wisdom of ancients echoes through fluttering wings that rush to two realms simultaneously. Guiding spirit made flesh for a fleeting moment to impart guarded secrets from planes unseen. She moves unbound between dimensions physical and energetic, at home in liminal outskirts beyond mortal sight. With elegance she wields primal currents to manifest visions through myth and symbol. Subtle alchemies transpire beneath her midnight cloak as lead congeals into gold, the mundane morphing into the strange. Matter bends to match mind when magic awakens.

Yet access to occult forces courts danger and demands responsibility when handling such volatile power. One devoted to conscious evolution must integrate both wings of light and dark, never turning from the Shadow’s initiation. She comprehends this truth, having dwelled in Hades’ halls on the path to apotheosis. Through death we gain new life. The piercing light within the dark fortifies nervous intuition, opens psychic channels between planes while dispelling negative thought-forms. In morphic resonance with crows we gain strength to uphold boundaries and speak truth amidst hostile forces. Adaptability and change become allies.

Beyond transient human affairs persistent guardians watch from oak branches, tracking soul maturation through cycles of dissolution. In moments of confusion their clarion call pierces veils to reveal right action. The shaman’s ears grow keen to receive their counsel. So too the medicine they impart counteracts toxic influences seeking purchase. Grace flows as antidote to doubt’s insidious plagues. No sincere supplicant passes without a visitation when guidance is sought. The crow knows.

Our jet-feathered avian friends are neither partial nor merciful – they meet all on their current plane of comprehension with beaked precision. But love emanates through discipline and occasional rebukes. The scratch of claws may inflict wounds yet they ultimately strengthen. Mindful engagement with these messengers leaves no region unilluminated, no self-deception intact. We emerge naked yet unafraid, clothed in remembrance of our sovereignty.

The Crow Queen bids you eat and drink of her wisdom. Will you accept the victuals and its truth tonic? For a seat at her glittering onyx table is reserved to treat both kings and vagabonds as equal inheritors of destiny’s feast when served without hesitation. Dissolve, reform and repeat at will. Arrive at your destination after long flight.