Author Appreciation Week: Maya Angelou

Our last author for Author Appreciation Week is simply amazing. Maya Angelou has written so many beautiful books and poems that it's difficult to showcase just one or two. Suffice it to say that this woman has an amazing talent and needs a place on your bookshelf. If by some fluke you have not read any of this author's work, may I recommend perhaps her best known (and loved) I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. I can't say enough about her writing.

But even more moving than her writing, is listening to her speak. If you ever have the opportunity to hear her speak, you absolutely must do it. The electricity in the room is incredible and her articulation and speech are like music. In fact, I knew I had met what was to be a very good friend when I learned that both of us (not having yet met one another) had attended the same lecture Ms. Angelou was giving in the Baltimore area. She's just that powerful.

I leave you with my favorite of her poems:

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod 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 I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. -Maya Angelou

Ode To The Happy-Eye-Pillow

Oh, Happy-Eye-Pillow, what would I do without you?

You have been with me day and night,

my constant companion these last three days,

through throbbing pain,

and meaningless irritation.

You are so smooth and silky,

like a baby's blanket.

You are always the cool side of the pillow.

You bring blessed darkness

and gentle pressure to ease my mind.

When the analgesics fail,

the narcotics and muscle relaxers are found lacking,

you comfort me.

Oh, Happy-Eye-Pillow, dear Happy-Eye-Pillow,

you make the migraine bearable.

A New Perspective

As I was getting myself my last cup of tea this evening, I saw this lovely poem on the Celestial Seasonings box. It describes perfectly the way I feel about being out in the garden. A perfect reminder on a bitter cold December night.

A New Perspective
Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Those little cares that fretted me,
I lost them yesterday
Among the fields above the sea,
Among the winds at play;
Among the lowing of the herds,
The rustling of the trees,
Among the singing of the birds,
the humming of the bees.

The foolish fears of what may happen,
I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass,
Among the new-mown hay;
Among the husking of the corn
Where drowsy poppies nod,
Where ill thoughts die and good are born,
Out in the fields of God.