Hi Pauline,
You could not have possibly made a better Choice. One of my all-time favorites.
Of course, since in 1981, Dr. Angelou was appointed to a lifetime position as the first Reynolds Professor of American Studies at Wake Forest University, in Winston Salem, NC, and since Winston Salem, NC, is less than a 20 minute drive from Thomasville, NC, I may be somewhat partial. In fact, I was fortunate back in the mid-80's, to attend an appearance by her on two separate occasions. If you can feel how powerful a presence she is in a seated Portrait such as the one above, just imagine her standing there in front of you at almost 6 ft. tall.
Georgios, she did indeed turn 80 on April 4th of this year, and was honored with a day-long celebration over in Winston Salem, NC. One other thing that's somewhat Ironic about her Birth date, Dr. King was assassinated on April 4th, her Birth date, and for many years after that Dr. Angelou did not Celebrate her Birthday. I also love the name Maya, however, I'm afraid that was not her given name at Birth. She was born Marguerite Johnson in 1928 in St Louis, Missouri. Her brother Bailey, to whom she was very close, named her Maya, speaking of her proudly as "my-a-sister".
In 1993, she recited her poem, "On the Pulse of Morning" at President Bill Clinton's inauguration, only the second poet in American history to do an inaugural recitation, the first having been Robert Frost at John F. Kennedy's inauguration in 1961.
The following is an excerpt from "On the Pulse of Morning" which I am particularly fond of...
"Today, the first and last of every Tree
Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.
Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot ...
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am the Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved.
I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid.
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, and if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
The day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream."
To Hear The Entire Poem, CLICK HERE
Thank you once again for featuring this Wonderful Woman.
Have A Blessed Week,
Phil