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Donna Summer's Love to Love, Serenading the Joy of Gaia

Submitted by afrocentric on Mon, 13/11/2017 - 05:32

A woman's candid expression of carnal pleasure, joy and ecstasy is something which is supposed to be private, something she acknowledges to herself when alone, or when she is with her partner. Even then her partner is not privy to some of these expressions. In this song she appears to be reliving the experience, and expressing her feelings about her man in song. It is not the kind of thing one expects to overhear, and when you do so you know are eavesdropping, and should leave the scene out of politeness. It is the kind of thing a man on becoming cognizant of brags about, telling how he banged her silly, banged her to the core and chuckles about it with his mates.

In any other circumstance her conduct would be most unseemly, most unladylike, wanton, vulgar, uncouth, totally down there with Nikki Minaj's bubbling in "anaconda". But there is something different about this instance. It is as though the eavesdroppers are happy to be part of the scene. How they got there nobody knows, but they seem to be at the right place at the right time. They are happy to be eavesdroppers, as though they are an audience, are happy to serenade her pleasure and experience with the most intricate musical accompaniments, instrumental choruses and exuberant fanfares. They've even come with an all woman chorus to accompany her.

Who is this woman and who are this audience, this audience that appears to be a whole troupe of musicians? This troupe that is so involved in her coital joy and satisfaction that they feel it should be proclaimed to the entire universe?

Does it sound like Krishna coming in on the flute around the 9:00 and 9:20 mark?

They find joy and in her deep throaty expressions of carnal, earthy, physical pleasure. It is music to their ears. Her crooning of her love for the partner they do not see deserves a chorus of it own. They even fill in the gaps when she quiets down, give her time to express herself alone, give her a chorus and finally accompany her to her climax, into the throes of her ecstasy.

The woman must be a goddess and the musicians must be her devotees. Who could the woman be?

Could it be the Gaia herself, taking the form of a lesser goddess, perhaps Demeter, or perhaps some even lesser being, seeking to be ravished, plundered and ploughed, in a manner that is as tender as it is vigorous, as loving as it is earthy, as sublime as it is carnal, as melodious as it is rhythmic, and whatever other superlatives I am yet to think of?

The thought arises of the Earth as a woman, a woman seeking to be embraced, seeking a token of appreciation of Her giving of Her self, Her unsolicited yielding of Her self, something She is committed to and will honour even if this quest is not fulfilled. Being female, She incarnates as a human to enjoy the sensations the human female experiences when being loved, when being ploughed, tilled and seeded to yield its own human fruit, which ultimately depends on Her self for its sustenance.

The orchestra are aware of this and are thrilled and find joy in every moan, every groan, every sigh, every gasp of pleasure, every sharp intake of breath, that accompanies the experience. They delight in the delight of their Goddess and announce and serenade her pleasure to the whole world. They hope she has a special partner, a partner who realizes who she is and will do as much as he can to ravish her as tenderly and as vigorously as he can, plunder her riches, partake of as much as she has to offer, all that she is overflowing with and generously and lavishly offers. A partner who will appreciate every drop, every lick of her overflowing munificence, and not allow any offering of any atom, any fibre in her body and soul to go unsampled and unappreciated. A man who is willing to transform the most earthy, carnal, physical feelings into the most sublime of sensations, and set every cell in her body aglow.


It is early dawn. Her lover has left, not wanting to receive the kudos for his endeavours, having eased her gently down from the most sublime highs, leaving her basking in her post coital bliss, with all the honey in her being aglow, every cell in her body tingling and sparkling. Having lovingly, ardently, faithfully, devoted himself to his Lady, his task is done, and he has taken his leave.

The dawn is scintillating. The Sun rises, and sees the woman sleeping. His eyes sparkle. He smiles, pleased for the woman, pleased for Earth, pleased for the woman Earth has incarnated as.

The woman rises. She stretches out, still tingling, still aglow. She sees the Sun and smiles. The Sun smiles back, He's going to adopt her as His god-daughter.

The orchestra start up again. They never give up do they? Their Goddess means everything to them. They must be gandharvas.

A tune and some words come to her lips. She starts to sing.

She doesn't know about it because like that of a young child the human mind is new to her.

It is a song by a group named Love Unlimited.

It is titled I'm So Glad That I'm A Woman.

It has been good to be a woman, if only for a night and a day

Today is the start of the harvest season. It will be bountiful. There will be a great cornucopia.

It's going to be a lovely day.

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