A great poem by Maya Angelou entitled When Great Trees Fall provides refuge for most in times of grief, a place of serenity when it seems that nothing is left. She gracefully writes how when the greatest fall, the effect is tremendous. But what they leave us is a powerful memory of their life and lessons. They’re the kind of lessons that speak to us in the midst of trouble, that comfort us in the midst of despair, that give us strength in the midst of weakness. They’re the kind of lessons that Clint Vaught will leave us all. He taught us to “own the moment.” He taught us to speak. Not only just to speak, but to speak with poise, confidence, and personality. Because of Mr. Vaught, trembling hands and shaky voices grew resolute with his guidance and our purpose was solidified… dignified. In that moment… in our moment, we realized that Mr. Vaught was more than just our teacher. He was our friend, our mentor, and our hope that we might become the speaker, the orator, the person he saw in all of us.
When Great Trees Fall by Maya Angelou
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,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.
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.
Rest In Peace Mr. Vaught.
Julian E. Wright is part of the duPont Manual High School Class of 2013. Currently, he’s Managing Editor of ManualRedEye.com and as a reporter for Manual AM. He hopes to study at Columbia University in New York City and major in Economics & Religion with a special concentration in Human Rights.
