“Poetry is music written for the human voice.”
Many literary enthusiasts cherish this profound observation. It perfectly captures the auditory nature of verse. However, the origin of this sentiment carries a rich history. Most people attribute these words to the legendary Maya Angelou. Indeed, she popularized the phrase globally. Yet, she did not claim credit for its invention. Instead, she consistently honored her mentor, Bertha Flowers, as the true source. This distinction highlights a beautiful story of mentorship. It reminds us that great voices often emerge from the guidance of others.
Tracing the Quote to a 1982 Interview
We can pinpoint the public emergence of this quote to a specific television event. Source In 1982, PBS aired a series called Creativity With Bill Moyers. The journalist Bill Moyers interviewed Maya Angelou for the premiere episode. During their conversation, Angelou shared the now-famous maxim. .
She explained that Mrs. Flowers spoke these words to her decades earlier. Specifically, the mentor repeated the lesson nearly fifty times. She wanted to ensure the young poet understood the concept. Consequently, Angelou never forgot the instruction. A reviewer for the Chicago Tribune noted this credit at the time. The journalist observed that Angelou deflected praise to her teacher. Thus, the public record clearly shows the true authorship.
Furthermore, this interview provided a platform for gratitude. Angelou used the opportunity to honor the woman who saved her voice. She detailed how Flowers encouraged her to speak. The documentary captured this touching tribute. It revealed the depth of their relationship. Therefore, while Angelou delivered the message to the world, the wisdom originated in a small town in Arkansas.
The Aristocrat of Black Stamps
To understand the quote, we must understand the woman who said it. Maya Angelou immortalized Bertha Flowers in her 1969 autobiography, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. In the book, Angelou describes Flowers as the “aristocrat of Black Stamps.”
She possessed an undeniable grace. For example, Angelou noted that Flowers remained cool on the hottest days. While others sweated in the Arkansas heat, Mrs. Flowers seemed to carry her own private breeze. This elegance captivated the young girl. Angelou viewed her with awe. Moreover, Flowers recognized potential in the silent child. She decided to intervene in Angelou’s life. This intervention changed literary history.
Flowers did not treat Angelou as a pitiable figure. Instead, she treated her as a scholar. She invited the girl to her home. There, she served tea and cookies. She read aloud to Angelou. Specifically, she read A Tale of Two Cities. Her voice sounded like singing. Angelou listened intently. She realized that words possessed a musical quality. This realization formed the foundation of her future career.
Breaking a Five-Year Silence
The context of the quote is poignant. Angelou famously stopped speaking for several years during her childhood. She remained mute from age seven until nearly thirteen. Trauma had stolen her voice. Nevertheless, she continued to read voraciously.
Mrs. Flowers noticed this habit. However, she challenged Angelou to go further. She told the girl that reading silently was insufficient. Words mean more than ink on a page. The human voice must infuse them with shades of deeper meaning. Therefore, Flowers assigned a task. She gave Angelou books of poetry.
She instructed the child to read them aloud. Angelou obeyed. She practiced in secret, often under her grandmother’s bed. Eventually, this practice restored her voice. The music of poetry coaxed her back into the world of sound. Without this specific guidance, the world might never have heard Maya Angelou speak. Thus, the quote is not just a definition of poetry. It is the recipe that cured a silenced child.
The Lasting Legacy of Mrs. Flowers
Angelou became a global icon. She performed her poetry on stages worldwide. Yet, she carried Mrs. Flowers’ lesson throughout her career. She understood that performance completes the poem. The text is merely the score; the voice is the instrument.
In 1983, The Charlotte Observer published an interview with Angelou. Once again, she cited Mrs. Flowers. She reiterated that one cannot truly love poetry without speaking it. Later, academic texts documented this relationship. For instance, the University Press of Mississippi included the interview in a 1989 collection. This preserved the connection for scholars.
Finally, standard reference works corrected the record. Random House Webster’s Quotationary credited Mrs. Flowers in 2001. It noted that Angelou quoted her mentor. Today, when we hear this phrase, we should remember two women. We honor Angelou for sharing it. But we must thank Bertha Flowers for the music. Her wisdom serves as a reminder to all readers. We must lift words off the page. We must give them breath. Only then does poetry truly sing.