In Memoriam

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 Agelou, Excerpt from “When Great Trees Fall”