Your browser does not support script
TWV Presents...

Articles/Essays From Pagans

[Show all]

Views: 20,706,233

March 17th. 2018 ...

A Little Magickal History

Men and the Goddess

Pirates and Witches

An Open Fire: Healing from Within

November 15th. 2017 ...


Pagan Artist Trading Cards

September 30th. 2017 ...


August 31st. 2017 ...

The White Goddess: A Seminal Work in the Neo-Wiccan Movement.

Gudrun of the Victory Gods

The Goddess Asherah

July 31st. 2017 ...

Cernunnos: The Darkest Wood in the Moon's Light

Truth and Lies: Finding Wicca

Sin Eaters and Dream Walkers

July 2nd. 2017 ...

Back to Basics Witchcraft: Magical Creativity for Small Living Spaces

On Preconceived Pagan/Wiccan Political Affiliations

A Distant Thunder: Should You Care?

On Cursing: Politics and Ethos

Ares and Athena

July 1st. 2017 ...

Elements of Magic

June 1st. 2017 ...

Herbal Astrology

The Sacred Ego in Mediterranean Magical Traditions

La Santa Muerte... The Stigma and the Strength

The Lady on the Stairs

Nahualli: Traditional Aztec Witchcraft and Totems

April 30th. 2017 ...

Nazis Made Us Change Our Name

Why the Faeries?

The Wheel of the Year in Our Daily Lives

Tarot Talk: the Knight of Pentacles

March 30th. 2017 ...

Magic in Daily Life

The East and West of Wiccan Magick

Tarot Talk: the Ace of Swords

March 3rd. 2017 ...

Finding Balance: Discipline Wedded to Devotion

February 10th. 2017 ...

Understanding the Unseen

Kitchen Magic and Memories

January 10th. 2017 ...

The Gray of 'Tween

Becoming a Sacred Dancer

Little Dog, Big Love

December 9th. 2016 ...

A Child's First Yule

November 10th. 2016 ...

What Exactly Is Witchcraft?

A Witch in the Bible Belt: Questions are Opportunities

On Death and Passing: Compassion Burnout in Healers and Shamans

What I Get from Cooking (And How it’s Part of My Path)

October 10th. 2016 ...

Witchcraft from the Outside

September 11th. 2016 ...

Wild Mountain Woman: Landscape Goddess

How Did I Get Here? (My Pagan Journey)

September 3rd. 2016 ...

Rethinking Heaven: What Happens When We Die?

What is Happening in My Psychic Reading?

Nature’s Reward

August 12th. 2016 ...

When Reality Rattles your Idea of the Perfect Witch

Hungarian Belief in Fairies

Designing a Pagan Last Will and Testament

Past Midnight

July 13th. 2016 ...

What Every Pagan Should Know About Curses

Magic With A Flick of my Finger

Finding and Caring for Your Frame Drum

An Open Mind and Heart

June 13th. 2016 ...

Pollyanna Propaganda: The Distressing Trend of Victim-Blaming in Spirituality

Living a Magickal Life with Fibromyalgia

My Father, My First God

Life is Awesome... and the Flu

May 15th. 2016 ...

Wiccan Spirituality

Faery Guided Journey

How to Bond with the Elements through Magick

Magical Household Cleaning

Working with the Elements

April 2nd. 2016 ...

Becoming Wiccan: What I Never Expected

The Evolution of Thought Forms

The Fear of Witchcraft

Rebirth By Fire: A Love Letter to Mama Maui and Lady Pele

Magic in Sentences

Blowing Bubbles with the Goddess

March 28th. 2016 ...

Revisiting The Spiral

Still Practicing

Spring Has Sprung!

January 22nd. 2016 ...

Coming Out of the Broom Closet

Energy and Karma

Community and Perception

December 20th. 2015 ...

Magia y Wicca

October 24th. 2015 ...

The Dream Eater--A Practical Use of Summoning Talismans

Feeling the Pulse of Autumn

NOTE: For a complete list of articles related to this chapter... Visit the Main Index FOR this section.

Article Specs

Article ID: 15932

VoxAcct: 451951

Section: words

Age Group: Adult

Days Up: 589

Times Read: 2,806

RSS Views: 7,170
Past Midnight

Author: Merideth Allyn [a WitchVox Sponsor]
Posted: August 12th. 2016
Times Viewed: 2,806

I am Witch. It is one a.m. yet again, with two, then three to follow. The Witching Hours. However, unless casting or divining by the moon’s hours or its course, no matter how I struggle or resist, my legs take charge, grounded in earth’s gravity, and take me to bed. They know, at least, that should I refuse, which I have done as I am of defiance born, or if I linger longer, fatigue awaits me in the later morn.

The post twilight now-dark hours past midnight are most magically magnetic and most mysteriously mine. Like the svelte nocturnal beasts I prowl. I own the dark: above, below and around me. The black night is as pregnant with possibilities as the faeryflies are abundant this midsummer night. A whimsical wind I hear outside the confines of my cottage, and I look out my huge bay window opened to the balmy air, and my heart trips at this full night of moon. The wind makes musical the enchanting wind chimes scattered for prism effects and crystalline tinkling in the lower branches of the huge oaks for strength and in the walnuts for wisdom, the elders for magic and the hawthorns for the fae. I love my trees, wildflowers and my medicinal and magical herbal gardens copious with lavender, sage, bee balm, primrose, lilac, jasmine, chamomile and so many more. I am a healer, primarily of the emotions and spirit, and I take pride in what I grow to be of service to any who seek me.

This wind seems to take its orders from the clouds scurrying across the moon followed by birds all seemingly going to some sacred ritual. A most enigmatic night it is and my soul stirs in my loins. The moon’s radiance brings deep shadows and contrasting light placing in bas relief every leaf on every tree and every petal on every flower, yet keeping the background almost too murky making me wonder who or what lurks. Regardless I am inside and feeling stifled, I wrap my shawl more tightly around my shoulders as I can sense more than most.

The night sounds that deafen suddenly can go silent, though, when the whip-whip-whippoorwill trills in a minor key the liberation of a soul from Middle Earth, and takes its piping melody, with bound soul, to the Otherworld. But it saddens me not. It is release…freedom from this heavy overcoat to a lighter, more energized, viable and less visible form. With a lighter coat, there is less scrutiny from eyes that wish harm and souls that lack understanding. Fear is a terrible thing. I have little fear as I have faced my imminent death to Middle Earth, regardless my late middle years for age matters not to the majestic reaper. And, besides, I seek adventure of the mercurial kind.

This evening’s past ‘tween time feels much like my adolescent first love…reckless with passion. The sun sinks into the coral, lilac and golden ocean. My veins feel the thrill of blood rushing and a lightning like quickening. My stomach is roller coasting in uncontrollable ecstasy. Almost giddy and childlike now I merge, in my mind’s eye, with all the beauty, wonder and awe of a Universe so replete with surprises.

The night, this night, calls me. It calls to me like no other has ever called. My middle-aged loins are buzzing where comfort and coziness and sitting contently by a blazing fire were all I usually desired. I have felt no 20-year-old passion in many a year; no galloping knights on steeds sweeping me off the mundane ground and off my peasant’s feet to gallop with them to their sparkling castles in the Otherworld. And, oh, that sweet smell of honeysuckle and wild rose competing for attention in my gardens; it does more than waft through the windows. It compels me. How can I refuse such an alluring call?

But a good Witch, also, must make her daily tasks magical by completing them. There is still sweeping and mopping and watering the drooping plants in my sacred space no matter the lateness of the hour before fulfilling fantasies in this night so intensely wild. I look out the bay window again. I look up at the silver mother of pearl hanging orb surrounded by twinkling smaller ones, a sequined sky. My sky, my night. I see the huge trees bending and swaying, undulating their siren call to me. I can resist no longer.

I burst through the stained glass and oaken door which has afforded me such sunny pleasure when the yellow orb of day penetrates the glass and paints the walls, floors and ceiling with dancing, colorful, prismatic figures. I rush heedless into the untamed freedom of this cacophonous night, smelling the sweetest of fragrant scents…so sweet almost unimaginable and certainly not of this world or of my garden. I hear music alchemically mixing with the music of my wind chimes and could swear to the sounds of children laughing and singing a beckoning song. I follow their laughter. I follow their song but cannot reach them try as I might. I could only, and finally, sink to the soft, receptive earth watching and waiting expectantly for the night to bring me what it promises.


Five a.m. What happened to the time? I look as the dawn turns to pale shades of citrine, lavender and rose quartz, and I cannot recall. And, oh dear Lord and Lady of the Wildwood, my gardens…so overgrown. I remembered then the legend of Rip Van Winkle and knew, without one doubt, that I had been pixie-led.

My gardens have grown up to the cottage and farther up the old stonewalls tend riling around the chimney. The glass is cracked and the panes shattered in my beautiful bay window where my cats and I had so peacefully curled and enjoyed thunderstorms, sunsets, and warm slumber during all seasons. My hands are gnarled and littered with age spots. And, my clothes are tight and cumbersome where they once fit correctly on my used-to-be middle-aged body. Wildness and chaos reign but from a different kind on this day.


The now old woman lived broodingly a year and a day to the exact moment when she was pixie-led, which seemed to her lifetimes ago. She had foraged among her kitchen and wildflower gardens to keep her alive, but, sadly, she never could remember the happiest days of her life; her days with the faeries in the cherished green forest, feasting and dancing by the amber fires with glowing lanterns swinging from the trees expressing an ambience unearthly; a day she had always dreamed of for she had never given up believing in faeries regardless the parents’ and the preachers’ and teachers’ insistence that there were “no such things.”

Grieving, she lived those three hundred and sixty-six days going outside to leave, each night, a gift for those who had taken her and a plea they would come for her again promising she would never reveal the way to the Otherworld, to the place of The Gentry or People of Peace. If she could only remember, she would take any path, no matter how difficult, no matter how terrifying, to get to Elphame, one of the Faery Lands, once again. She looked to the heavens, saw the moon and the stars and sighed. No more was there midnight mystery although there was mystery in the not knowing…the lack of remembrance. A tear fell and riveted along her wrinkled cheeks and dropped to the ground.

Midnight on day three hundred and sixty-six found her feeling dizzy. Her heart fluttered and once again she fell to the receptive earth filled this time with varied colored and fragrant lilies. There was music again as well, but this time her ears were dead to the sounds as was she to all of life on Middle Earth. Though, before her ears could hear no more, she did hear the minor keyed melody of the whippoorwill.


The Good People of the Otherworld were trooping toward her in high fashion. For the fae never forget one of its own regardless kith or blood kin. Trumpets trumpeted, flutes pan-piped and The Gentry whisked her away as if she were no heavier than they. Moonlit bright ribbons billowed in a once again whimsical wind she seemed to hear and feel from a distance. A moment or two later, no matter it was not past midnight on Middle Earth, she woke to the remembrance of remembering, to the sheep’s tail of a lingering dream…she woke to bliss. She looked herself over and saw a maiden’s light ephemeral form…she always knew she would feel lighter in the Otherworld, and she understood that this time she was here to stay. She would laugh, love and live with her beloved faeries and dance in the magical sunlight and moonlight in enchantment for forever and a day.



Copyright: All Rights


Merideth Allyn

Location: Jackson, Tennessee

Website: N/A

Author's Profile: To learn more about Merideth Allyn - Click HERE

Bio: You have

Other Articles: Merideth Allyn has posted 11 additional articles- View them?

Other Listings: To view ALL of my listings: Click HERE

Email Merideth Allyn... (No, I have NOT opted to receive Pagan Invites! Please do NOT send me anonymous invites to groups, sales and events.)

To send a private message to Merideth Allyn ...

Pagan Essays

Pagan Web
8,000 Links

Pagan Groups
Local Covens etc.

80,000 Profiles

Home - TWV Logos - Email US - Privacy
News and Information

Chapters: Pagan/Heathen Basics - Pagan BOOKS - Traditions, Paths & Religions - Popular Pagan Holidays - TV & Movies - Cats of the Craft - Festival Reviews - Festival Tips - White Pages (Resources) - Issues/Concerns - West Memphis 3 - Witch Hunts - Pagan Protection Tips - Healing Planet Earth

Your Voices: Adult Essays - Young Pagan Essays - Pagan Perspectives (On Hold) - WitchWars: Fire in the Craft - Gay Pagan - Pagan Parenting - Military - Pagan Passages

Pagan Music: Pagan Musicians - Bardic Circle at WitchVox - Free Music from TWV

Vox Central: About TWV - Wren: Words, Wrants and Wramblings - Guest Rants - Past Surveys - A Quest for Unity

Weekly Updates: Click HERE for an index of our weekly updates for the past 6 years

W.O.T.W. - World-Wide Networking

Your Town: A Link to YOUR Area Page (The largest listing of Witches, Pagans, Heathens and Wiccans on the Planet)

VoxLinks: The Pagan Web: 8,000 Listings

Your Witchvox Account: Log in Now - Create New Account - Request New Password - Log in Problems

Personal Listings: Pagan Clergy in Your Town - Adult Pagans - Young Pagans - Military Pagans

Events: Circles, Gatherings, Workshops & Festivals

Covens/Groups/Orgs: Local Groups Main Page

Other LOCAL Resources: Local Shops - Regional Sites - Local Notices - Global/National Notices - Local Skills & Services - Local Egroups - Political Freedom Fighters

Pagan Shopping: Online Shops Index - Original Crafters Sites - Auction Sites - Pagan Wholesalers - Pagan Local Shops

Web Site Content (including: text - graphics - html - look & feel)
Copyright 1997-2018 The Witches' Voice Inc. All rights reserved
Note: Authors & Artists retain the copyright for their work(s) on this website.
Unauthorized reproduction without prior permission is a violation of copyright laws.

Website structure, evolution and php coding by Fritz Jung on a Macintosh G5.

Any and all personal political opinions expressed in the public listing sections (including, but not restricted to, personals, events, groups, shops, Wren’s Nest, etc.) are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect the opinion of The Witches’ Voice, Inc. TWV is a nonprofit, nonpartisan educational organization.

Sponsorship: Visit the Witches' Voice Sponsor Page for info on how you
can help support this Community Resource. Donations ARE Tax Deductible.
The Witches' Voice carries a 501(c)(3) certificate and a Federal Tax ID.

Mail Us: The Witches' Voice Inc., P.O. Box 341018, Tampa, Florida 33694-1018 U.S.A.
Witches, Pagans
of The World

Search Articles

 Current Topic
 Editorial Guide

NOTE: The essay on this page contains the writings and opinions of the listed author(s) and is not necessarily shared or endorsed by the Witches' Voice inc.

The Witches' Voice does not verify or attest to the historical accuracy contained in the content of this essay.

All WitchVox essays contain a valid email address, feel free to send your comments, thoughts or concerns directly to the listed author(s).