Read and enjoy the great journey with the Poet, Educator, Author, Playwright, Activist, Historian, Producer, Actor, Director.......Maya
Poem by Maya Angelou :
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
By Maya Angelou
Bookish
A book blog with Maggie Galehouse
Maya Angelou, 1928-2014: An Appreciation
Maya Angelou in 1971
On Wednesday, with the news of Angelou’s death at 86, that voice went silent. Random House, her publisher, confirmed that Angelou’s caregiver found her dead in her Winston-Salem, N.C., home after battling an undisclosed illness.
Many will remember Angelou as the robust poet who performed with such power at Bill Clinton’s 1993 presidential inauguration. But over the past two decades she had grown thinner, grayer, more frail. And, of course, she was more than a poet, counting memoirist, activist, actor, humanitarian and public speaker among her many accomplishments.
Angelou visited Houston in recent years and was scheduled to appear in Houston on Friday to accept a Beacon of Life award from Major League Baseball, in conjunction with the annual Civil Rights Game. She canceled her appearance last week because she wasn’t feeling well.
I interviewed Angelou in 2009, when she visited Houston as part of The Brilliant Lecture Series, which invites iconic figures to share their stories with an audience. That memorable evening was many things: a good laugh with a friend; a seat at your grandmother’s feet; advice from someone who knows better.
As an artist, Angelou is hard to categorize. People knew her and her grand but homespun way of speaking before they knew her work, and she has been criticized for everything from her poetry to her politics. Yet somehow, she loomed larger than the sum of her parts.
To read the full appreciation at houstonchronicle.com, click here.
–Maggie Galehouse
Rest In Peace XXX
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