- Posted May 29, 2014 by
This iReport is part of an assignment:
MOM U WILL BE MISSED, TEARS!!!
It has been said that: "When the elderly die, it's like a library burning down."
America and the world are mourning the Beloved Mother Maya Angelou's transition to rest and reward today. MOM was a priceless treasure of spirit mind and sober logic. Her raw, rare and rough-edged elegance in person and presentation captured the respect and intrigue of millions. MOM will be sorely missed, but only in body. MOM powerful brain thrust in literature remains with us as does her erudite spirit.
My favorite quote of MOM is: "While I know myself as a creation of God, I am also obligated to realize and remember that everyone else and everything else are also God's creation."
My favorite poem of her authorship and one to which my very soul relates is titled "Still We Rise." Note the rich words that follow:
"You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
Written by Dr. Maya Angelou
We will be with you later precious spirit the Beloved Mother Maya Angelou!
One of your so many tearful sons apostle James Winfree Sr,