The Passage of Time, The Desired Fruits of Contemplation.

Some of you know what I mean.

We can only hope  we grow in compassion and our humanity.  There are no guarantees, but we try. We already know we don’t have all the answers.  Just some as guideposts for life as we walk.

We hope we  are still open to learning,  because the options are many out there.  And so is the concrete of ego.

Hildegarde of Bingen has been on my mind of late.   Her calling to us to remain “juicy” as the Earth, in it’s profound greening, calls us to the creative and spiritual.  But there are seasons, and to hold to this is something we can forget through the passage of time.

We must hold to that verduncy, to that greening of the Spirit and Spiritual.

To rejoin the better parts of humanity.  To be open again.

Hildegard is deeply ecological in her spirituality.  The basic thrust of our time is the movement from an egological to an ecological consciousness.  Perhaps ecological injustice reigns because we lack an ecological spirituality.

We are out of balance.  We can not be proportionate until we honor that wilderness of Earth, that juicyness, that indominable greeness, that verduncy of the land and the natural persons within ourselves.

We can not be in balance until we honor the indominable push towards justice, towards a healthy humanity, towards an equality of sexes in the most fundamental of ways.

Nakedness without the role playing.  And this applies to all things D/s.

The psychic price we pay for being out of sorts, out of balance with  nature is unmeasurable.   A lost of identity, a loneliness, an incomplete understanding what life can be.

I pray for, Hold in the Light, a man I know who is considering his options right now.  I hope he benefits from an attention to  spiritual thoughts.  I hope for a greening of his soul.  I wish him Peace.

Today, Gary Russell of ERWA asked for a poem:  “A New Song of Songs” for the ERWA pages.   I don’t know  if this would be offensive to post here because of it’s ‘nature’ but I will chance it.

It is especially poignant to me that he has asked for this poem, today.

There just isn’t a question of coincidences to me anymore.  Perhaps I am opening to the broader universe.

Lady Nyo


In the Song of Songs,
a woman’s breasts are compared
to the young twin roes which feed amongst
the lilies.

Her ass is not defined, but I think of my own,
two sloping sides, bottoming out
in rounded halves, a peach if you will,
with the fuzzy softness that sits
sweetly in the hand.

Did you pity me, in all my milk-white
virginity, at least back there….
when you bound my arms behind
and with your glass- hard cock
pierced the fundament?

I screamed that day,
a hunting hawk who missed her first strike,
but my keening, though pleading at the end
of its tones,
was more piteous and haunting than any bird of prey.

You lifted my bound arms, ripping
muscles at the shoulders, and the pain
above and below,
equaled out along my spine.

You were the Bird of Prey,
And I, just a sparrow.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2009

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4 Responses to “The Passage of Time, The Desired Fruits of Contemplation.”

  1. Berowne Says:

    This morning I was reading a fragment by Wordsworth that apparently never made it into a larger poem, which reminds me of your comments:

    Not useless do I deem
    These quiet sympathies with things that hold
    an inarticulate language, for those
    Once taught to love such objects as excite
    No morbid passions, no disquietude,
    No vengeance and no hatred, needs must feel
    The joy of that pure principle of love
    So deeply that, unsatisfied with aught
    Less pure and exquisite, they cannot choose
    But seek for objects of a kindred love
    In fellow-natures, and a kindred joy.


  2. ladynyo Says:

    Thank you, Berowne.

    This is so beautiful, I am putting this poem on the face of the blog.

    Again, such reasons to read Wordsworth. Sublime poetry and sentiment behind the poem.

    Thank you for turning my eyes to such quiet beauty.

    Lady Nyo


  3. Z Says:


    I can but guess the significance of the date, but I have an idea.

    I found this poem disturbing in its depth, the pain both physical and psychic make my heart sick. To contemplate the cruel callousness of taking something so precious oft given so freely with such a cold sadism I find hard to understand.

    I have met many women now who have been violated in some way by lovers, friends and family. The tradgedy of such loveless sexual domination coupled to pain without passion and compassion is abhorrent.

    This poem epitomises that dreadful circumstance.

    Your friend



  4. ladynyo Says:

    Hello Z.

    Yes, this poem is, or could be….about rape. But it’s more than that. It’s that loveless, sexual domination of an ‘unequal’ relationship. It’s that ‘gone wrong’ power exchange.

    You are right. The center theme is sadism, and this is something that walks amongst us covered with all sorts of veils. Consensual behavior, which can just be a lulling of concerns, etc.

    The poem was meant to be disturbing, but I didn’t know if I had made it’s mark in the writing. Some think it ‘good’ but do they understand the basic issues behind it? I don’t think so.

    Loveless, sexual domination is the height of tragedy of a relationship that engenders such things.

    Yes, it is dreadful, but it is dreadful to both the victim, and the victimizer. One can learn, (victim), but the other? Well, probably never.

    Thank you for your comment.

    Lady Nyo


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