The Negro Speaks of Rivers

240px-Langston_Hughes

Photo by Gordon Parks

 

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln
went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy
bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
― Langston Hughes

 

 

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Brown Penny

William Butler Yates

William Butler Yeats photographed in 1903 by Alice Boughton

I WHISPERED, ‘I am too young,’
And then, ‘I am old enough’;
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
‘Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.’
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

W. B. Yeats

William Butler Yeats was an Irish poet and one of the foremost figures of 20th century literature. A pillar of both the Irish and British literary establishments, in his later years he served as an Irish Senator for two terms.
Yeats was a driving force behind the Irish Literary Revival and, along with Lady Gregory, Edward Martyn, and others, founded the Abbey Theatre, where he served as its chief during its early years. In 1923 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature as the first Irishman so honoured for what the Nobel Committee described as “inspired poetry, which in a highly artistic form gives expression to the spirit of a whole nation.” Yeats is generally considered one of the few writers who completed their greatest works after being awarded the Nobel Prize; such works include The Tower and The Winding Stair and Other Poems. Yeats was a very good friend of American expatriate poet and Bollingen Prize laureate Ezra Pound. Yeats wrote the introduction for Rabindranath Tagore’s Gitanjali, which was published by the India Society.

en.wikipedia.org

• Text under CC-BY-SA license
o Lived: Jun 13, 1865 – Jan 28, 1939 (age 73)
o Spouse: Georgiana Hyde-Lees (1917 – 1939)
o Parents: John Butler Yeats • Susan Pollexfen
o Awards: Nobel Prize in Literature (1923)
o Siblings: Jack Butler Yeats • Elizabeth Yeats • Lily Yeats
o Children: Anne Yeats • Michael Yeats

Timeline
1889: In 1889, Yeats met Maud Gonne, then a 23-year-old English heiress and ardent Irish     Nationalist.
1896: In 1896, Yeats was introduced to Lady Gregory by their mutual friend Edward Martyn.
1899: In 1899, Yeats, Lady Gregory, Edward Martyn and George Moore established the Irish Literary Theatre for the purpose of performing Irish and Celtic plays.
1902: In 1902, he helped set up the Dun Emer Press to publish work by writers associated with the Revival.
1916: His final proposal to Maud Gonne took place in mid-1916.
1917: William Butler Yeats married Georgiana Hyde-Lees on October 20, 1917.
1939: He died at the Hôtel Idéal Séjour, in Menton, France, on 28 January 1939.

Courtesy Wikipedia.org

Maya Angelou Ascended

Maya Angelou was a Renaissance Woman.  A great Soul who lived her life fully.  For me she represents love, strength, wisdom, gentleness and much more.  I will greatly miss her presence in this world.  Love and light Ms. Angelou.

Maya Angelou

 

Excerpt of an article by: Eun Kyung Kim

Her son, Guy B. Johnson, released a statement Wednesday:
“Dr. Maya Angelou passed quietly in her home before 8 a.m. EST. Her family is extremely grateful that her ascension was not belabored by a loss of acuity or comprehension. She lived a life as a teacher, activist, artist and human being. She was a warrior for equality, tolerance and peace. The family is extremely appreciative of the time we had with her and we know that she is looking down upon us with love.”

My Childhood Home I See Again

Abraham LincolnMy Childhood Home I See Again

by Abraham Lincoln

My childhood home I see again, 
    And sadden with the view; 
And still, as memory crowds my brain, 
    There's pleasure in it too.

O Memory! thou midway world 
    'Twixt earth and paradise, 
Where things decayed and loved ones lost 
    In dreamy shadows rise,

And, freed from all that's earthly vile, 
    Seem hallowed, pure, and bright, 
Like scenes in some enchanted isle 
    All bathed in liquid light.

As dusky mountains please the eye 
    When twilight chases day; 
As bugle-notes that, passing by, 
    In distance die away;

As leaving some grand waterfall, 
    We, lingering, list its roar— 
So memory will hallow all 
    We've known, but know no more.

Near twenty years have passed away 
    Since here I bid farewell 
To woods and fields, and scenes of play, 
    And playmates loved so well.

Where many were, but few remain 
    Of old familiar things; 
But seeing them, to mind again 
    The lost and absent brings.

The friends I left that parting day, 
    How changed, as time has sped! 
Young childhood grown, strong manhood gray, 
    And half of all are dead.

I hear the loved survivors tell 
    How nought from death could save, 
Till every sound appears a knell, 
    And every spot a grave.

I range the fields with pensive tread, 
    And pace the hollow rooms, 
And feel (companion of the dead) 
    I'm living in the tombs.

Source: Poem-A-Day from the Academy of American Poets.

Elaine Maria Upton

Elaine Maria Upton

Silence II

Silence is not a lack of words.
Silence is not a lack of music.
Silence is not a lack of curses.
Silence is not a lack of screams.
Silence is not a lack of colors
or voices or bodies or whistling wind.
Silence is not a lack of anything.

Silence is resting, nestling
in every leaf of every tree,
in every root and branch.
Silence is the flower sprouting
upon the branch.

Silence is the mother singing
to her newborn babe.
Silence is the mother crying
for her stillborn babe.
Silence is the life of all
these babes, whose breath
is a breath of God.

Silence is seeing and singing praises.
Silence is the roar of ocean waves.
Silence is the sandpiper dancing
on the shore.
Silence is the vastness of a whale.
Silence is a blade of grass.

Silence is sound
And silence is silence.
Silence is love, even
the love that hides in hate.

Silence is the pompous queen
and the harlot and the pimp
hugging his purse on a crowded street.

Silence is the healer dreaming
the plant, the drummer drumming the dream. It is the lover’s
exhausted fall into sleep.
It is the call of morning birds.

Silence is God’s beat tapping all hearts.

Silence is the star kissing a flower.

Silence is a word, a hope, a candle
lighting the window of home.

Silence is everything –the renewing sleep
of Earth, the purifying dream of Water,
the purifying rage of Fire, the soaring
and spiraling flight of Air. It is all
things dissolved into no-thing–Silence
is with you always…..the Presence
of I AM

– Elaine Maria Upton

SOUL TRAVEL

travel to Spirit

When I go to sleep at night my Soul takes flight

Through the wormhole to the past of scenes and people I cannot grasp

On another planet – Sirius to be exact

A teacher of stature is my life

Zooming past the stars, pure energy I am

Travelling at the speed of light to the earth below

I awake when my Soul returns from the nightly journey through space and time

Grateful for the revelation of who I am and where I’ve been

Knowing another night my Soul will travel again

V.F. Farria

SPIRIT is Always There

Rain in Australian Rainforest

SPIRIT is Always There

SPIRIT is always there waiting for us to reach out and connect

When we think we are alone, when we think we’re not loved,

when we feel we’re carrying the weight of the world on

our shoulders, SPIRIT is always there

Seek and ye shall find

Let those who have eyes, see

Let those who have ears, hear

SPIRIT is always there

SPIRIT is the great Comforter

SPIRIT is all knowing

SPIRIT protect us

SPIRIT loves us

It does not matter how far off the road we may drift

SPIRIT is always there

Oh how I delight and bask in the loving light of SPIRIT

V.F. Farria