Poetry about death - and an amusing anecdote
First the amusing anecdote... from Karamo Brown of Queer Eye fame: Karamo: You need not worry about death, you should worry about what state you’re in. Jonathan Van Ness (in a horrified whisper): New Jersey! And the poetry: 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. 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.” ― Maya Angelou Grace and peace, Nancy Trask NLT462@gmail.com Nancy50273@centurylink.net 515 505 0456
magnificent… both joke and poem… thank you. Paul
On 12 Jan 2020, at 23:18, Nancy Trask via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
First the amusing anecdote... from Karamo Brown of Queer Eye fame:
Karamo: You need not worry about death, you should worry about what state you’re in. Jonathan Van Ness (in a horrified whisper): New Jersey!
And the poetry: 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. >
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.”
― Maya Angelou
Grace and peace,
Nancy Trask NLT462@gmail.com <mailto:NLT462@gmail.com> Nancy50273@centurylink.net <mailto:Nancy50273@centurylink.net> 515 505 0456 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
Thank you Nancy For both pieces. With love, Isobel Bishop Sent from my iPhone
On 13 Jan 2020, at 6:25 pm, PAUL SCHRIJNEN via OE <oe@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
magnificent… both joke and poem…
thank you.
Paul
On 12 Jan 2020, at 23:18, Nancy Trask via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
First the amusing anecdote... from Karamo Brown of Queer Eye fame:
Karamo: You need not worry about death, you should worry about what state you’re in. Jonathan Van Ness (in a horrified whisper): New Jersey!
And the poetry: 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. >>
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.”
― Maya Angelou
Grace and peace,
Nancy Trask NLT462@gmail.com Nancy50273@centurylink.net 515 505 0456 _______________________________________________ Dialogue mailing list Dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/dialogue-wedgeblade.net
_______________________________________________ OE mailing list OE@lists.wedgeblade.net http://lists.wedgeblade.net/listinfo.cgi/oe-wedgeblade.net
participants (3)
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isobeljimbish＠optusnet.com.au -
Nancy Trask -
PAUL SCHRIJNEN