There is deep grief when a cultural touchstone such as Maya Angelou passes on, but her death is not an ending. It is an invitation for us to embody the possibility of love, peace, and inspiration within.
I remember the day Maya Angelou came into my life. I was a high school student at a boarding school in a rural area of Mississippi. The words of such a great and prolific writer literally came off the pages at me.
You see, in our home Maya is a grandmother. And today that is what my soul feels it has lost. Mother Maya taught me that no matter my scars, I matter. More than that, I have a story(ies) to tell, which I am meant to tell. As one of my life teachers she taught me much about the subject.
Ever since Beowulf, poetry has been critical to the development of the English language. We are now seeing a form of literary expression disappear without any discussion of whether it has a role to play in modern education.
Last week, some of America's top poets answered five questions from a pool of questions offered by readers of poetry for National Poetry Month. In this second part of the series, our poets tackle five more of their questions.
During my father's slow avalanche to death, my brother was a tireless advocate on his behalf, a bodhisattva in the way he cleared debris and made things easier for everyone around him. I was in a plane over the Pacific Ocean when I finally wrote this poem for him.
That our heart can receive and hold anything and that we feel that the intensity of living is too much to bear is a paradox we can only live into. Under what is both unbearable and endlessly uplifting is the murmur of life.
Who wrote the first modern English poem? When -- and, indeed, where -- was it written? There are numerous candidates, but one could do worse than propose the answer 'T. E. Hulme, in 1908, on the back of a hotel bill.'
Kindness and suffering are wordless teachers, ready to bend us and soften us until we accept that we are here; that, try as we will, we can't build our way out of existence or dream our way out of being human. Once opened in this way, we come to realize that the only way out is to love being here.