03710 – When Great Souls Die…
Angelou, Maya

And when great souls die,
after a period, peace blooms,
slowly and always irregularly.
Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed.
They existed.
We can be.
Be and be better.
For they existed.

bloom(s) | die(d) | electric vibration | exist(ed) | irregular(ly) | never the same | peace blooms | sense(d) | slow(ly) | sooth(ed) | soul(s) | spaces fill | whisper(ed)