I don't know what emotions tomorrow will bring...the hike to his final resting place is exhausting in and of itself. There will be people there, probably too many for true peace to surround me. It is a moment I suspect I will want to be in solitude and allow myself time to be introspective. Alas, with fourteen others with me, I know this will be a challenge. If God so chooses I know He will facilitate the peace my heart desires.
As I think of tomorrow and reminisce the words of Maya Angelou fill my head...I think I have reached the place of blooming peace. Although sporadic and unhurried the moments do come, and I think God for them, and know my heart is healing.
When Great Trees Fall
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.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
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.
Thank you Dr. Angelou for knowing my heart.
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