February 21: Maya Angelou, Empire State Building, "The Tin Man's Heart"

I am sitting in my living room, watching a documentary on the life of Maya Angelou.  My daughter is sitting next to me, and she just said, "I love her voice."

I saw Maya Angelou read twice.  She was a presence.  Tall as the Empire State Building, even in advanced age.  I remember sitting about forty feet away from the stage, and she stood there and started singing a spiritual.  It was electric, and she had the entire stadium in her palm.  I wish my daughter could have been there, seen her, heard her.

I have a poem tonight that may have made Dr. Angelou laugh, if she'd have the opportunity to read it.  At least, that's what I hope.

Saint Marty loves Dr. Angelou's voice, too.

The Tin Man's Heart

by:  Martin Achatz

The Wizard gave the Tin Man
A heart with a clock
That unwound after sundown,
Hands slowing at midnight
In the dark bed of his chest,
Each second an immense field of poppies,
Fragrant as Dorothy's thick braids.

In the forest under the stars,
The Tin Man listened to his heart tick,
Like the sound of lovers kissing,
Waiting for his spring to uncoil,
Praying for that moment:
He and Dorothy in the poppies,
The sun on their gleaming bodies.

January 8: Beauty of Music, Maya Angelou, "Human Family"

For some reason, I've been reading a lot of Maya Angelou poems recently.  It started when I found her wonderful Christmas poem, "Amazing Peace," in December.  I must have watched the video of her reading that poem about a dozen times.

Dr. Angelou's work has the cadence and beauty of music.  I can almost hear her voice singing each of her lines.  I had the thrill of seeing her read her work in person.  Twice.  She wasn't just a poet.  She was a presence.  When she stepped onstage, the auditorium went silent.  Not just respectfully silent.  It was the kind of silence commanded by world leaders and church leaders.  About a thousand people, hanging on her every syllable.

So, tonight, I want to share another Maya Angelou poem.  Take a moment.  Imagine her standing before you in a long, red dress.  Pearls at her throat.  Imagine her clearing her throat, parting her lips.  Then listen.

Saint Marty is listening, too.

Human Family

by:  Maya Angelou

I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.

Some declare their lives are lived
as true profundity,
and others claim they really live
the real reality.

The variety of our skin tones
can confuse, bemuse, delight,
brown and pink and beige and purple,
tan and blue and white.

I've sailed upon the seven seas
and stopped in every land,
I've seen the wonders of the world
not yet one common man.

I know ten thousand women
called Jane and Mary Jane,
but I've not seen any two
who really were the same.

Mirror twins are different
although their features jibe,
and lovers think quite different thoughts
while lying side by side.

We love and lose in China,
we weep on England's moors,
and laugh and moan in Guinea,
and thrive on Spanish shores.

We seek success in Finland,
are born and die in Maine.
In minor ways we differ,
in major we're the same.

I note the obvious differences
between each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

The voice of God