Maya Angelou (April 4, 1928-May 28, 2014). Dancer. Singer. Poet. Author. Speaker. Educator. Creative. Inspirer. Mother. Black woman. Beautiful. She means so much to me. Everything. May she rest in peace.
"My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style."
I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!
There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.
One of my absolute favorite poems. Bishop’s birthday was yesterday, so I’m a day late, whatever.