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

Wendy. My hear goes out to you and Danielle and Garrett. 

 When I would go to HV park to walk my dogs, often I would see Rick running with his dog. I always thought gosh I wish I could still run. I’m sorry my friend. ❤️