A tribute to Maya Angelou...
It been ages...
The Caged Bird that Sang to Freedom
Born to parents with differencesSent to live with grand parents, indulged a bit,
Back to mother, a tender-aged gawky girl
Raped by mother's boy friend, for no reason at all
Telling it, and they killed him, that silenced her...
She forgot to speak, feeling responsible for speaking
Speaking to kill, silence was the only way out
Because she thought, 'if I speak, I'll kill some one else!'
It took years to break the silence, but she read and learnt,
Slowly the wounds did heal, and when she spoke, she spoke for all
She spoke for abused women, used women and oppressed blacks
She spoke for courage, resilience, for over coming it all
She spoke for those who hope not, for those who dare to dream
She sang the songs for the voiceless, dejected, disillusioned lot
She taught, how to struggle, to overcome, by telling it all!
She shared her most intimate moments with others & bared her soul...
She looked for loved, searched high and low, and many marriages
and partnerships later learnt the truth: the truth about love:
'How can you love someone, if you do not live your self?'
And like a caged bird she sang, her voice echoing in the hills
Over the mountains, down the hills, across boundaries, in a fearful trill,
Till she broke free from shackles of slavery, shackles of ill will,
And then her song became an anthem, of poor, depraved, enslaved
And it reverberated far and wide, to all the corners, worldwide...
And a helpless, hapless, wronged-against-woman, became a source
Of strength and inspiration, of force and resurrection, rejuvenation;
Of hope and full freedom, from inner demons and outer demons;
From discrimination and humiliation, from oppression to emancipation
From despair to exaltation, from down-in-the-dumps to up in the clouds
The struggle was enormous, the path arduous, but she egged on, by her
Inner strength, power of conviction, determination and perseverance...
And though a caged bird, she sang and sang, till her trill reached the farthest end
her voice echoing in the hills, over the mountains, down the hills,
across boundaries, in a fearful trill, she sang of hope of dream un-fulfilled;
Till she broke free from shackles of slavery, shackles of ill will,
And, her song freed her and her fellow men, from all the prisons,
all the prejudices, all dejections, with a renewed hope, renewed strength.
And her name was Maya Angelou,
My angel, your angel, an angel of peace, with inner glow...
Author: Zoya Zaidi
Copyright ©: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
A tribute to Maya Angelou
30.05.2014
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
Read 1433 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2014-07-27 at 22:14
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