Proud blooms? Explanation of blog title

The phrase comes from a Maya Angelou poem entitled Elegy. I am not a literature snob nor very poetic; I have one book of poetry, a large anthology of Maya Angelou. I enjoy the poems, that is, the ones I'm able to understand, which is probably only half. I don't think it's a very famous poem which makes me feel kind of smart (I had to type it up, couldn't find it on Google!) Here is the text of the poem:

Elegy
(For Harriet Tubman & Frederick Douglass)

I lie down in my grave

and watch my children

grow

Proud blooms

above the weeds of death.

Their petals wave

and still nobody

knows the soft black

dirt that is my winding

sheet. The worms, my friends,

yet tunnel holes in

bones and through those

apertures I see the rain.

The sunfelt warmth

now jabs

within my space and

brings me roots of my

children born.

Their seeds must fall

and press beneath

this earth,

and find me where I

wait. My only need to

fertilize their birth.

I lie down in my grave

and watch my children

grow.

I'd like to say that the things I'll write on here are blooms above the weeds of death. In this poem, the subjects are proud blooms specifically in that they are african-americans living out the dream of ex-slaves, fighting for equality in the footsteps of Tubman and Douglass. I'm stretching the metaphor (in more ways than one). I think the blooms symbology can also refer to any people, their attitudes, and/or thoughts. We are all rooted in the past; we make decisions based on worldviews, spirituality, experience- our "blooms" stretch forth above those "weeds." Do I make the most of the past? Do I make the most of the deaths of people I know, people I don't know, Messiahs, martyrs? Anyway, that's my challenge to myself.