|Living With Intention||
When Great Trees Fall
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,
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,
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.
In my short life, I have lost too many people whom I love dearly. This page is dedicated to them. This poem was given to me by a high school friend after my mom passed away. She had also lost her mother and thought I might find comfort in the words of Maya Angelou. She couldn't have been more right. To this day, I have yet to find anything else that so poignantly expresses what it's like to lose someone you love. If you've lost someone, I hope you too, can find strength and peace.
My mother and I at my college graduation. She passed away on August 26, 2006. She was 58 years old.
My friend Ron who was killed by an IED in Afghanistan on Dec 11, 2011.