{"id":473,"date":"2017-05-10T22:22:49","date_gmt":"2017-05-10T22:22:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-hccc-americanlit2\/?post_type=chapter&p=473"},"modified":"2017-05-10T22:22:49","modified_gmt":"2017-05-10T22:22:49","slug":"maya-angelou-on-the-pulse-of-morning-1993","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/atd-herkimer-english2\/chapter\/maya-angelou-on-the-pulse-of-morning-1993\/","title":{"raw":"Maya Angelou, \"On the Pulse of Morning,\" 1993","rendered":"Maya Angelou, “On the Pulse of Morning,” 1993"},"content":{"raw":"

Maya Angelou\u2019s 1993 inaugural poem and remarks<\/p>\n\n

12 January 2009<\/span><\/h6>\n
\n
\n\nThis document and its associated audio file<\/a> (5:48) are distributed with permission of the Clinton Presidential Library.\n\n<\/div>\n
\n\nMr. President and Mrs. Clinton,\nMr. Vice-President and Mrs. Gore,\nAnd Americans Everywhere \u2026\n\nA Rock, A River, A Tree\nHosts to species long since departed,\nMarked the mastodon.\n\nThe dinosaur, who left dry tokens\nOf their sojourn here\nOn our planet floor,\nAny broad alarm of their hastening doom\nIs lost in the gloom of dust and ages.\n\nBut today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,\nCome, you may stand upon my\nBack and face your distant destiny,\nBut seek no haven in my shadow.\n\nI will give you no hiding place down here.\n\nYou, created only a little lower than\nThe angels, have crouched too long in\nThe bruising darkness,\nHave lain too long\nFace down in ignorance.\n\nYour mouths spilling words\nArmed for slaughter.\n\nThe Rock cries out to us today, you may stand on me,\nBut do not hide your face.\n\nAcross the wall of the world,\nA River sings a beautiful song,\nIt says come rest here by my side.\n\nEach of you a bordered country,\nDelicate and strangely made proud,\nYet thrusting perpetually under siege.\n\nYour armed struggles for profit\nHave left collars of waste upon\nMy shore, currents of debris upon my breast.\n\nYet, today I call you to my riverside,\nIf you will study war no more. Come,\n\nClad in peace and I will sing the songs\nThe Creator gave to me when I and the\nTree and the rock were one.\n\nBefore cynicism was a bloody sear across your\nBrow and when you yet knew you still\nKnew nothing.\n\nThe River sang and sings on.\n\nThere is a true yearning to respond to\nThe singing River and the wise Rock.\n\nSo say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew\nThe African, the Native American, the Sioux,\nThe Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek\nThe Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,\nThe Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,\nThe privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.\nThey all hear\nThe speaking of the Tree.\n\nThey hear the the first and last of every Tree\nSpeak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.\n\nPlant yourself beside the River.\n\nEach of you, descendant of some passed\nOn traveller, has been paid for.\n\nYou, who gave me my first name, you\nPawnee, Apache, Seneca, you\nCherokee Nation, who rested with me, then\nForced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of\nOther seekers--desperate for gain,\nStarving for gold.\n\nYou, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot ...\nYou the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought\nSold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare\nPraying for a dream.\n\nHere, root yourselves beside me.\n\nI am that Tree planted by the River,\nWhich will not be moved.\n\nI, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree\nI am yours--your Passages have been paid.\n\nLift up your faces, you have a piercing need\nFor this bright morning dawning for you.\n\nHistory, despite its wrenching pain,\nCannot be unlived, but if faced\nWith courage, need not be lived again.\n\nLift up your eyes upon\nThis day breaking for you.\n\nGive birth again\nTo the dream.\n\nWomen, children, men,\nTake it into the palms of your hands.\n\nMold it into the shape of your most\nPrivate need. Sculpt it into\nThe image of your most public self.\nLift up your hearts\nEach new hour holds new chances\nFor new beginnings.\n\nDo not be wedded forever\nTo fear, yoked eternally\nTo brutishness.\n\nThe horizon leans forward,\nOffering you space to place new steps of change.\nHere, on the pulse of this fine day\nYou may have the courage\nTo look up and out and upon me, the\nRock, the River, the Tree, your country.\n\nNo less to Midas than the mendicant.\n\nNo less to you now than the mastodon then.\n\nHere on the pulse of this new day\nYou may have the grace to look up and out\nAnd into your sister's eyes, and into\nYour brother's face, your country\nAnd say simply\nVery simply\nWith hope\nGood morning.\n\n<\/div>\nRead more: http:\/\/iipdigital.usembassy.gov\/st\/english\/texttrans\/2009\/01\/20090112155227berehellek0.2457697.html#ixzz3oNfd7X00<\/a>\n\n\u00a0\n
Maya Angelou<\/b> (born Marguerite Annie Johnson<\/b>; April 4, 1928\u00a0\u2013 May 28, 2014) was an American poet, memoirist, and civil rights activist. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, several books of poetry, and was credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning over 50 years. She received dozens of awards and more than 50 honorary degrees.\u00a0Angelou is best known for her series of seven autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adult experiences. The first, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings<\/i> (1969), tells of her life up to the age of 17 and brought her international recognition and acclaim.<\/div>","rendered":"

Maya Angelou\u2019s 1993 inaugural poem and remarks<\/p>\n

12 January 2009<\/span><\/h6>\n
\n
\n

This document and its associated audio file<\/a> (5:48) are distributed with permission of the Clinton Presidential Library.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

Mr. President and Mrs. Clinton,
\nMr. Vice-President and Mrs. Gore,
\nAnd Americans Everywhere \u2026<\/p>\n

A Rock, A River, A Tree
\nHosts to species long since departed,
\nMarked the mastodon.<\/p>\n

The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
\nOf their sojourn here
\nOn our planet floor,
\nAny broad alarm of their hastening doom
\nIs lost in the gloom of dust and ages.<\/p>\n

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
\nCome, you may stand upon my
\nBack and face your distant destiny,
\nBut seek no haven in my shadow.<\/p>\n

I will give you no hiding place down here.<\/p>\n

You, created only a little lower than
\nThe angels, have crouched too long in
\nThe bruising darkness,
\nHave lain too long
\nFace down in ignorance.<\/p>\n

Your mouths spilling words
\nArmed for slaughter.<\/p>\n

The Rock cries out to us today, you may stand on me,
\nBut do not hide your face.<\/p>\n

Across the wall of the world,
\nA River sings a beautiful song,
\nIt says come rest here by my side.<\/p>\n

Each of you a bordered country,
\nDelicate and strangely made proud,
\nYet thrusting perpetually under siege.<\/p>\n

Your armed struggles for profit
\nHave left collars of waste upon
\nMy shore, currents of debris upon my breast.<\/p>\n

Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
\nIf you will study war no more. Come,<\/p>\n

Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
\nThe Creator gave to me when I and the
\nTree and the rock were one.<\/p>\n

Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
\nBrow and when you yet knew you still
\nKnew nothing.<\/p>\n

The River sang and sings on.<\/p>\n

There is a true yearning to respond to
\nThe singing River and the wise Rock.<\/p>\n

So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
\nThe African, the Native American, the Sioux,
\nThe Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
\nThe Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
\nThe Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
\nThe privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
\nThey all hear
\nThe speaking of the Tree.<\/p>\n

They hear the the first and last of every Tree
\nSpeak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.<\/p>\n

Plant yourself beside the River.<\/p>\n

Each of you, descendant of some passed
\nOn traveller, has been paid for.<\/p>\n

You, who gave me my first name, you
\nPawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
\nCherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
\nForced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
\nOther seekers–desperate for gain,
\nStarving for gold.<\/p>\n

You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot …
\nYou the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
\nSold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
\nPraying for a dream.<\/p>\n

Here, root yourselves beside me.<\/p>\n

I am that Tree planted by the River,
\nWhich will not be moved.<\/p>\n

I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
\nI am yours–your Passages have been paid.<\/p>\n

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
\nFor this bright morning dawning for you.<\/p>\n

History, despite its wrenching pain,
\nCannot be unlived, but if faced
\nWith courage, need not be lived again.<\/p>\n

Lift up your eyes upon
\nThis day breaking for you.<\/p>\n

Give birth again
\nTo the dream.<\/p>\n

Women, children, men,
\nTake it into the palms of your hands.<\/p>\n

Mold it into the shape of your most
\nPrivate need. Sculpt it into
\nThe image of your most public self.
\nLift up your hearts
\nEach new hour holds new chances
\nFor new beginnings.<\/p>\n

Do not be wedded forever
\nTo fear, yoked eternally
\nTo brutishness.<\/p>\n

The horizon leans forward,
\nOffering you space to place new steps of change.
\nHere, on the pulse of this fine day
\nYou may have the courage
\nTo look up and out and upon me, the
\nRock, the River, the Tree, your country.<\/p>\n

No less to Midas than the mendicant.<\/p>\n

No less to you now than the mastodon then.<\/p>\n

Here on the pulse of this new day
\nYou may have the grace to look up and out
\nAnd into your sister’s eyes, and into
\nYour brother’s face, your country
\nAnd say simply
\nVery simply
\nWith hope
\nGood morning.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

Read more: http:\/\/iipdigital.usembassy.gov\/st\/english\/texttrans\/2009\/01\/20090112155227berehellek0.2457697.html#ixzz3oNfd7X00<\/a><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Maya Angelou<\/b> (born Marguerite Annie Johnson<\/b>; April 4, 1928\u00a0\u2013 May 28, 2014) was an American poet, memoirist, and civil rights activist. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, several books of poetry, and was credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning over 50 years. She received dozens of awards and more than 50 honorary degrees.\u00a0Angelou is best known for her series of seven autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adult experiences. The first, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings<\/i> (1969), tells of her life up to the age of 17 and brought her international recognition and acclaim.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t

Candela Citations<\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
CC licensed content, Shared previously<\/div>