MAYA
How do you know,
I ask you again,
How do you know about this news,
About this spiritual soul,
They say that she took her flight to the heavens,
A flight to the heavens,
Say that again,
Who?
Maya Angelo,
That is what is said,
Someone said that her works, her missions, her everything
here was finished,
Finished I say again,
And so they said that then she just up and left,
Left all she matriculated here, all that she had ever accomplished through out
the pages of history, and time,
For mankind to moan, groan,
Weep about and pray,
Why if you talk to some others you will find that
It is the marking of a grand celebration,
Now tell me just how celebrating someone who is now
dead a celebration someone did ask,
In fact,
Explain to me what you mean by this,
Is what was asked,
And said,
This celebration is for the soul of a poet,
Quite remarkable indeed,
Gone to meet Sweet Jesus,
Gone to rest her head with his,
For most all, the interpretation is simply called dead,
But for me instead,
I see her with those golden fingers still writing new intelligent,
Angelic pieces for the angels to speak out loud above the luminous
Clouds,
While walking down the golden streets as they pass saints,
You know who saints are right,
Those are the folks who lives became inspirations to the
dust people,
Us I say,
Us,
Why when she broke through those heavenly realms,
The cheers were so loud, and thunderous,
Why the celebration there sent water raindrops all the way down here,
It did rain, here I say,
For a couple of days,
You know it rained down here all the way around the world,
But in heaven,
She now has her words flowing,
Telling the glorious experiences there on forever non expiring paper,
As the saints of all times gather to hear what next angelic verses she may put
together with the angelic saintly intelligence that she will forever display,
Why even Sweet Jesus stops what He is doing to listen to whatever she
might compose and say next,
We celebrate your lovely soul,
We honor and reverence the time and space that you filled with your
Voice, song, intelligence,
Spoken words, plays,
The embodiment of the woman you evolved to be and expressed
So vividly, boldly and with undeniable grace,
Fashioned always by the truth almost missed between the messages,
The messages of overcoming of ourselves in order to be crowned by grace,
The messages of unity and love between mankind no matter the races,
The messages of uplifting of the souls,
The acceptance of the struggles,
While shocking others and bursting the views of those who like
To live in their own created bubbles,
No one will ever brace the pages of history as a poet, play wright,
talented actress, activist, like you have, and did,
So I end this honorary solute to you in words by you best said,
I rise,
I rise,
Until I meet Sweet Jesus,
I rise I rise,
Until I embrace my heavenly, transformed being,
I rise I rise,
Until my home in heaven I walk valiantly,
Where I will forever write poetic messages,
With those golden fingers of mine,
Stored in a place called forever time,
I rise,
I rise,
I rise,
I rise!
Love Ya MAYA ANGELO!
Written By Author Thelma Cunningham
How do you know,
I ask you again,
How do you know about this news,
About this spiritual soul,
They say that she took her flight to the heavens,
A flight to the heavens,
Say that again,
Who?
Maya Angelo,
That is what is said,
Someone said that her works, her missions, her everything
here was finished,
Finished I say again,
And so they said that then she just up and left,
Left all she matriculated here, all that she had ever accomplished through out
the pages of history, and time,
For mankind to moan, groan,
Weep about and pray,
Why if you talk to some others you will find that
It is the marking of a grand celebration,
Now tell me just how celebrating someone who is now
dead a celebration someone did ask,
In fact,
Explain to me what you mean by this,
Is what was asked,
And said,
This celebration is for the soul of a poet,
Quite remarkable indeed,
Gone to meet Sweet Jesus,
Gone to rest her head with his,
For most all, the interpretation is simply called dead,
But for me instead,
I see her with those golden fingers still writing new intelligent,
Angelic pieces for the angels to speak out loud above the luminous
Clouds,
While walking down the golden streets as they pass saints,
You know who saints are right,
Those are the folks who lives became inspirations to the
dust people,
Us I say,
Us,
Why when she broke through those heavenly realms,
The cheers were so loud, and thunderous,
Why the celebration there sent water raindrops all the way down here,
It did rain, here I say,
For a couple of days,
You know it rained down here all the way around the world,
But in heaven,
She now has her words flowing,
Telling the glorious experiences there on forever non expiring paper,
As the saints of all times gather to hear what next angelic verses she may put
together with the angelic saintly intelligence that she will forever display,
Why even Sweet Jesus stops what He is doing to listen to whatever she
might compose and say next,
We celebrate your lovely soul,
We honor and reverence the time and space that you filled with your
Voice, song, intelligence,
Spoken words, plays,
The embodiment of the woman you evolved to be and expressed
So vividly, boldly and with undeniable grace,
Fashioned always by the truth almost missed between the messages,
The messages of overcoming of ourselves in order to be crowned by grace,
The messages of unity and love between mankind no matter the races,
The messages of uplifting of the souls,
The acceptance of the struggles,
While shocking others and bursting the views of those who like
To live in their own created bubbles,
No one will ever brace the pages of history as a poet, play wright,
talented actress, activist, like you have, and did,
So I end this honorary solute to you in words by you best said,
I rise,
I rise,
Until I meet Sweet Jesus,
I rise I rise,
Until I embrace my heavenly, transformed being,
I rise I rise,
Until my home in heaven I walk valiantly,
Where I will forever write poetic messages,
With those golden fingers of mine,
Stored in a place called forever time,
I rise,
I rise,
I rise,
I rise!
Love Ya MAYA ANGELO!
Written By Author Thelma Cunningham
