I have always admired Maya. I've looked up to her, adored her, wanted to be her. I have been in awe of her, fascinated by her and impressed with her. I've looked her up and read about her, reveling in every detail of her life hoping that I could somehow replicate it in my own. I have thought about her. I have dreamed about her. She is gone. Never will I get to meet her, to hug her to tell her... Never will I get to gawk at her and ask her a silly question before I bombard her with the deepened abyss of my questioning soul. Never shall I get to stare into those wise eyes and say, "Tell it to me"
Gone but not forgotten she has risen in me. Awakened the dormant words in my heart. In the silencing of her body her being ignites in me a fire I thought had been snuffed out by the cooling of the coals.
Gone but not forgotten, I remember. I remember what is was like to dream as a little girl, that I stood before a crowd and mesmerized them with my lyrics of my mouth. The rhythm of my tongue and the hum of my voices. As My Angel-ou would, I would create a cadence that cascades and cradles, that rattles through the body and awakens in people the very thing that makes them who they are.
My heart broke at the realization that she is gone.
Gone but not forgotten, your legacy lives on.