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Ruth Bader Ginsberg

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When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
gnaws on kind words
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
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.
Maya Angelou
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Thanks so much for this beautiful poem by Maya Angelou, I am sure this will make RBG very pleased. We have lost a magnificent warrior.

Thank you


I had my eyes closed. Ruth warned me that there are some FINE puzzle workers.

RIP. You will always be remembered.


Thanks for sharing this magnificent Maya Angelou poem. It is a perfect tribute for an amazing woman, written by an amazing woman.

We have suffered a great loss. May she rest in peace with her beloved husband.


You speak for so many of us, Church Lady. We're all heart-broken.
Thanks for the puzzle.

Love this! May RBG rest in peace.


I loved her. I wanted her to live forever.

RIP, your work is done on earth.

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