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- From: cjones@physci.ucla.edu (Chad Jones)
- Subject: Inaugural Poem--includes motss reference
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- Message-ID: <1993Jan25.111230.29530@mic.ucla.edu>
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- Organization: University of California Los Angeles
- Date: 25 Jan 93 11:12:30 PST
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- Maya Angelou's Inaugural Poem
- January 20, 1993
-
-
- "ON THE PULSE OF MORNING"
-
- A Rock, A River, A Tree
- Hosts to species long since departed,
- Marked the mastodon.
- The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
- Of their sojourn here
- On our planet floor,
- Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
- Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
-
- But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
- Come, you may stand upon my
- Back and face your distant destiny,
- But seek no haven in my shadow
- I will give you no hiding place down here.
-
- You, created only a little lower than
- The angels, have crouched too long in
- The bruising darkness,
- Have lain too long
- Face down in ignorance
- Your mouths spilling words
-
- Armed for slaughter.
- The Rock cries out to us today, you stand on me,
- But do not hide your face.
-
- Across the wall of the world,
- A River sings a beautiful song,
- It says, come rest here by my side.
-
- Each of you a bordered country,
- Delicate and strangely made proud,
- Yet thrusting perpetually undersiege
- Your armed struggles for profit
- Have left collars of waste upon
- My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
- Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
- If you will study war no more. Come,
- Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
- The Creator gave to me when I and the
- Tree and the Rock were one.
- Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
- Brow and when you yet knew you still
- Knew nothing.
- The River sings and sings on.
-
- There is a true yearning to respond to
- The singing River and the wise Rock.
- So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
- The African, the Native American, the Sioux,
- The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
- The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
- The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
- The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
- They all hear
- The speaking of the Tree.
-
- They hear the first and last of every Tree
- Speak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.
- Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.
-
- Each of you, descendant of some passed
- On traveller, has been paid for.
- You, who gave me my first name, you
- Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
- Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
- Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
- Other seekers--desperate for gain,
- Starving for gold.
- You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,
- You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
- Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
- Praying for a dream.
- Here, root yourselves beside me.
- I am that Tree planted by the River,
- Which will not be moved
- I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
- I am yours--your Passages have been paid
- Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
- For this bright morning dawning for you.
- History, despite its wrenching pain,
- Cannot be unlived, but if faced
- With courage, need not be lived again.
-
- Lift up your eyes upon
- This day breaking for you.
- Give birth again
- To the dream.
-
- Women, children, men,
- Take it into the palms of your hands.
- Mold it into the shape of your most
- Private need. Sculpt it into
- The image of your most public self.
- Lift up your hearts
- Each new hour holds new chances
- For new beginnings.
- Do not be wedded forever
- To fear, yoked eternally
- To brutishness.
-
- The horizon leans forward,
- Offering you space to place new steps of change.
- Here, on the pulse of this fine day
- You may have the courage
- To look up and out and upon me, the
- Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
- No less to Midas than the mendicant.
- No less to you now than the mastodon then.
-
- Here on the pulse of this new day
- You may have the grace to look up and out
- And into your sister's eyes, and into
- Your brother's face, your country
- And say simply
- Very simply
- With hope
- Good morning.
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- ------------------------------------------------------------------------
- Chad Jones | Do I need someone here to scold me or do I
- Network Manager | need someone who'll grab and pull me out of
- UCLA Physiological Science | this four poster dull torpor pulling
- cjones@physci.ucla. | downward? -- 10,000 Maniacs
-