Sleep is overrated, really.

Well, at least when you're waking up sore, it is. I sleep well, but in weird positions, and now my neck is all aching and owies. But what can you do?

These dreams aren't helping either. The last few nights have been in old houses, not mine, but old Victorian farmhouses, filled with old furniture and strange memories of family. I keep dreaming of looking for a new athame...This dream, tho, was almost like a fading vision of consciousness, rather than a dream. Most of my dreams happen closer to waking than not; this one, I was falling asleep and it grabbed me and pulled me under.

I dreamt last night of kneeling a circle of ash trees in twilight, dressed in black and green. I was wearing trousers and a tunic, and a large spear rested across my knees. I had woad on my skin in thick spirals, and seemed to be waiting expectantly. The spear seemed to sing and hum of its' own accord, a heavy black head and shaft, ringed about with a collar of crows' feathers and carnelian. This spear, I know...I've held it before, weilded it before, seen it red with blood, glowing with magick. It's not mine - just on loan to me.

A raven landed on the altar stone, and then the raven was the Morrigan, all tattoos and blood-red eyes and hair and *shivers* any description I could give m'Lady wouldn't do her justice. She was dressed for war, all in black. She moved with a liquid grace that still stuns me, for all the years I've known her, and took her spear back.

She closed her hand around the head, ran it along the edge; blood, almost garnet-purple, oozed out between her slender fingers. She pushed my head back violently with the heel of her bleeding hand, and with her finger scribed three spirals on my forehead. Then she let three drops of her blood fall into my open eyes - they burned and stung, like someone had poured acid into them, but my vision was still clear. Finally, she opened my mouth and let three drops of blood fall on my tongue - again, burning like fire, sweet and metallic. It was as if she'd lit my veins as well. I felt this divine gift pouring through me...and then I was flying, as raven, over a cattle raid, and then there was darkness.

Powerful imagery....mreh. Crazy dreams don't let a woman rest, no matter how deep she slumbers.