While some have referred to Frost’s poem for Kennedy as “stiff
and dutiful,” Maya Angelou’s inaugural poem, “On the Pulse of
the Morning” was seen as multicultural, emotionally and
involving. On the Pulse of the Morning A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed, Marked the mastodon. The
dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here On our
planet floor, Any broad alarm of their hastening doom Is lost in
the gloom of dust and ages. But today, the Rock cries out to us,
clearly, forcefully, Come, you may stand upon my Back and face
your distant destiny, But seek no haven in my shadow. I will
give you no more hiding place down here. You, created only a
little lower than The angels, have crouched too long in The
bruising darkness, Have lain too long Face down in ignorance.
Your mouths spilling words Armed for slaughter. The Rock cries
out today, you may stand on me, But do not hide your face.
Across the wall of the world, A River sings a beautiful song,
Come rest here by my side. Each of yo