Praise for Nut

[kiya]

Mother of the manifest
Womb of the dead
Arched starry vault of heaven
Whose water jar
Holds cleansing
And oblivion
Swallow up the sun!
In your belly
Is making and unmaking
And grandfather dawn is born
Bloody and fragrant
Between your thighs.

(Some work has an interesting effect on my Egyptiana.)

Comments

[sashajwolf.livejournal.com]

I like. Thank you for sharing it.

[ryanfirewitch.livejournal.com]

As usual, I am seriously in awe of your poetry.

OK, Kemetic Nut versus Thelema's Nuit might not be exactly the same, but this reminded me a lot of the Gnostic Mass. We've recently been gifted some seriously cool Mass equipment: an upright coffin. I begin and end the Mass in it, and painted on the inside is Nuit, arching from one side of the coffin over the top to the other.