By Ernie McCray

Editor Note:  Award-winning author, renowned poet and civil rights activist Dr.  Maya Angelou died at her North Carolina home on May 28, 2014.  She was 86 years old.

Many Thanks, Maya

I miss you, Maya,
but you will forever reside
in the breezes of
the breaths of fresh air
you gifted us with
when you were here,
ever so lovely and dear,
so wise beyond any years,
captivating us with your smile
and your wit
and your humor, all the while,
teaching us the ways of “We,”
you, him, her, them, me –
all of humanity.
You looked us straight in the face
and those of us who returned the gaze,
could tell by the look
in your eyes
that you were serious
and sincere as one can be
when you suggested to us
that there could truly be
a world of peace and harmony;
that we could,
when the moment is right,
and the right moment is now,
fly free.
Oh, I’ve been listening to you,
and inspired by you,
through and through,
my dear, Maya Angelou.
You said, of a caged bird,
that it “stands on the grave of dreams,”
singing of what’s unknown
but still singing of someday
being free –
and you’ve helped me believe
that we can,
unlike the caged bird,
with clipped wings,
fly from the sometimes crippling
and stifling
and blinding societal cage
we’ve trapped ourselves in,
that’s littered with
economic oppression
and rising social depression
and privacy deprivation
and explosions of prison populations
and no child care for the poor,
a class of humankind
who remain invisible in our
still young nation.
But you taught us
that what is, is not what has to be,
that we can rise above our reality
and soar free, free, free,
free of narrow minded mentalities,
free of timidity,
free of animosity,
free of apathy,
free of rage,
and ride the winds of change
with those who seek the same destiny:
a turning of the page.

Well, Maya,
you role-modeled
the kind of passion
and compassion
we’ll need to turn the page
with, as you used to say,
“some humor and some style”
in your lilting
southern black woman way.
And, when it comes to that,
I’m with you all the way,
to my very last day.
Like, you,
I’m not a caged bird
and I love to sing.
Thank you, my love,
for validating my attitudes
and moods
and my paths to truths.
Thank you for everything.

Photo from flickr.

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Ernie McCray

I was raised in a loving and alive home, in a black neighborhood filled with colorful characters in Tucson, Arizona. Such an environment gave me a hint that life has to be grabbed by the tail as tight as a pimple on a mosquito's butt. With no BS and a whole lot of love. So, from those days to now I get up every morning set on making the world a better place. On my good foot*, and I hope my writing reflects that. *an old black expression

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