A Glue Book for the mewsings of my heart...

Friday, August 9, 2013


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,
gnaws on kind words
promised walks
never taken.

Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold

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 and be better. For they existed.

1 comment:

  1. Gooood morning,
    While I'm waiting for the clothes dryer to do it's thing, thought I would drop you a line, luv, luv, luv this 4 Season creation! So thought out and such an eye-candy design. We made a major move earlier this year and moved to MI Aug 1st - 'am loving the "cooler" temps and once again experiencing the Fall colors. My art stuff is still in storage and after 3 mos., I'm truly having art withdrawals!!!!
    Take care,
    Barb (Tumbleweed Tess -- now Michigan Molly)
    still have the same e-mail, please drop me a line or two when time permits


Today is tomorrow's yesterday...thank you for the magic of your visit!