Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Rising Above

  “Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above them.” — Washington Irving

SOURCE

“One challenge of our adventure on earth is to rise above dead systems………wars, nations, destructions……to refuse to be a part of them, and express the highest selves we know how to be.”— Richard Bach

Midweek Motif ~ Rising Above

There are people even in our times who keep on inspiring us by living well, transcending their adversities.

I read in an article that circumstances, according to scientists are only 10% contributors to happiness and the rest is done by ‘our genes, our behavior and our intentional activities’. This may be the reason why some people having been through so much would not sink and cope well.

To quote from Nietzsche, “He who has the why to live can bear almost any how.”

How to rise above this dark cloud that this world / life/ has become?

Here is a poem for you by Maya Angelou:

Still I rise

by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. 

Please share your new poem using Mr. Linky below and visit others in the spirit of the community—

               

                       (Next week Susan’s Midweek Motif will be ~ Animals)