I once had dinner with Maya Angelou.
There’s no clever way to say that. I was in the presence of greatness. It was an honor beyond words. It felt like the universe opened a door, looked straight at me, and said come in. The moment was healing, kind, warm, and completely out of this world. I was met with presence, generosity, and a depth of humanity that stays with you forever.
She read Still I Rise into my eyes, signed the poem, and sent it home with me. She told me I reminded her of a younger version of herself when she wrote I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. It was a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
That experience changed me. It marked me. It’s one of those moments you don’t analyze or explain — you carry it.
This song is connected to that night. Not as a retelling. Not as a tribute. But as an echo of what it meant to be invited into something larger than myself. I feel deeply honored to have shared space with her, and I will always hold that memory as a monumental moment in my life.
This is also a reminder to say yes.
Even to the strange invitations.
Especially to the ones that don’t make sense at first.
Some doors don’t knock twice.
Lyrics to Still I Rise
(A song written about my night with Maya Angelou)
It was a chain of events that led me to this night,
My mother fading out, my ex looking for a fight.
No friend alive could comprehend my ache,
Then a woman’s words rose up for my soul to take.
I suited up slow, headed out that door,
Alone but honest — I adored me more.
I watched her speak, drifted into a nap,
Drove away afterward, feeling heavy, feeling flat.
Then the phone lit up with a voice I didn’t deserve,
Said, “Come to dinner, love — the choice is yours.”
I swung that car fast, I left rubber on the ground,
’Cause missing this moment would’ve haunted me down.
Walked right in, sat with legends and truth,
Sat with the sharpest minds in the room.
Though tied to negligence, wrapped in their blame,
I took the chance anyway — stepped into the game.
She took my hands, saw straight through my walls,
Said, “Child, what story lives beneath it all?”
I said, “Dear Maya… I’m tired inside.
I give all my love, but I’m cast aside.”
Still I rise… still I rise…
Even when the world writes my name with their lies.
Still I rise… still I rise…
Like dust, like dawn, like fire in my eyes.
“How can I live with these good intentions?
Yet feel like some forgotten invention?”
She smiled soft and her voice grew warm,
“You remind me of a younger form…
“When I wrote that caged bird song…
You are strong, child — stay strong.”
Then she asked for Still I Rise right then,
Signed it with love, again and again.
Still I rise… still I rise…
Though they try to fold my wings, I’m born to fly.
Still I rise… still I rise…
I’m hope, I’m tide, I’m thunder in the sky.
I rise — from the dirt, from the ache, from the pain
(I rise, I rise)
I rise — from the nights I thought would never end
(Still I rise, still I rise)
I rise — through the lies they tried to write on my skin
(I rise again, I rise again)
I rise — every time my spirit remembers her name
(Maya said rise… still I rise…)
“You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness…”
But still — like air — I rise.
I rise.
I rise.
