“Goddess Nut”……poem based on Egyptian mythology.

This poem dedicated to CZBZ, a woman who inspires so many with her compassion and wisdom.

Lady Nyo

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NUT (Choka)

 

I am the Temple

of the Universe at night,

I am Goddess Nut.

I spread my body over

the dark, silky sky

and the Sun is born from my

open mouth at dawn, each day.

 

 

Invisible moon

crawls into my bowels at dawn

as does brother Sun

at night when his glory dimmed

and I cradle both

within me their majestic

glory now dulled down

until the release of them

thrown high up into the sky.

 

 

I am the keeper.

All Celestial bodies

I, the nourisher

of life and death that passes

I, Nut, sleep at day,

my stars and I well hidden

by the birth of Sun

but courted by Geb, Earth God

who sucks the night dew

from my two breasts with sweet lips

reaching with his maleness

makes the Earth fertile with love,

and the universe fruitful.

 

 

I am the River

where planets and stars sail through

on their skyward journey,

the celestial travail.

My Houri marks time,

passage of cosmic travel

discarding their veils

til naked at dawn, retire

on the horizon.

They sleep once again under

My belly and gathered near.

 

I am the passage.

I am the Keeper of Souls.

I am the mystery.

My presence lends fear to man

I touch eyes with sleep.

I round out the universe

Dark, fulsome Night.

I am Nut.

 

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2014

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2 Responses to ““Goddess Nut”……poem based on Egyptian mythology.”

  1. czbz Says:

    Oh! How lovely, Jane! Many moons ago (1993 to be exact), I was drawn towards “goddess mythology” , using Nut as the mother symbol on a teapot. This was a period of deep awakening for me, initiating a highly creative period in the arts. Intuitive work that doesn’t require language or words is my first choice when I need to withdraw from routines and schedules. Gardening also fills that space—a way to get away.

    I started reading about goddess mythology (I’m no expert by any means) and incorporated ancient symbols into my work. I was drawn to the idea of women as vessels, thus taking up the Potter’s Wheel and then carving designs and images into the wet clay. This period lasted about three years. I’ll send a picture or two but all I have is an iPhone so don’t expect too much. ha!

    Thank you so much for dedicating this beautiful poem to me. It feels like I’m coming full circle to that “magical” period in my life when I suddenly realized (and it was a profound epiphany), that women had just as much right to breath the air as men. That I was a sentient being, not property. Rianne Eisler was my ‘guide’ during this time with her lovely book, “The Chalice and the Blade.” I think 1993 was when I truly became myself, leaving “perfection” behind and other false teachings of a narcissistic culture.

    I hope you don’t mind my rambling but it was the absolute perfect time to welcome Nut into my life again. I’ll print your poem and keep it next to my sculpture!

    Love
    CZ

  2. ladynyo Says:

    Dear CZ….you are not rambling,you are giving wonderful back story to why Nut became a creative part of a creative beginning for you. This is heartening and marvelous to hear. I remember you mentioning that you were a potter, and I would LOVE to see some of your work. I don’t think any creative impulse ever ends….I think it just deepens, perhaps simmers on the back burners of life until it becomes part of a living consciousness and every time, it deepens our souls. Or something like that….to try to explain the process isn’t necessary, just that it happens is good enough…and also connects us to the Universal Impulse.
    Chalice and the Blade” but I don’t think I ever read it; “Mists of Avalon” around the same time did it for me. I will get your book. I think we need to keep the fires burning.

    Oh funny, that you mention perfection and narcissism in the same breath. I was thinking of many decades ago when I worked as a secretary for three very narcissistic women who pushed ‘perfection’ (and this wanky ‘channeling’ jazz) and they were so full of crap that perfection was never applicable and never should be anyway. When Islamic rug weavers weave a complex (they always seem to be) they leave an imperfection somewhere. A great and humble reason, too.

    “Intuitive work that doesn’t require language or words is my first choice when I need to withdraw from routines and schedules. Gardening also fills that space—a way to get away.”

    Spot on.

    Love, Jane

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