11 YEARS AGO, TODAY

5-1-1929 __ 7-24-2009

                                                                                   

When Great Trees Fall

 by Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,


rocks on distant hills shudder,


lions hunker down


in tall grasses,


and even elephants


lumber after safety.



When great trees fall


in forests,


small things recoil into silence,


their senses


eroded beyond fear.



When great souls die,


the air around us becomes


light, rare, sterile.


We breathe, briefly.

Our eyes, briefly,


see with


a hurtful clarity.


Our memory, suddenly sharpened,


examines,


gnaws on kind words


unsaid,


promised walks


never taken.


And when great souls die,


after a period peace blooms,


slowly and always


irregularly. Spaces fill


with a kind of


soothing electric vibration.


Our senses, restored, never


to be the same, whisper to us.


They existed. They existed.


We can be. Be, and be


better... For they existed.