Wednesday, October 22, 2003

Thoughts on Fame


The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to silence,
which knew it would inherit the earth
before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds
watching from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom
is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth,
more famous than the dress shoe,
which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it
and not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men
who smile while crossing streets,
sticky children in grocery lines,
famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous,
or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do.

-- Naomi Shihab Nye

I like this poem because it reminds me of More's advice in "A Man For All Seasons" and the gentle fame of the Chief in Salinger's "The Laughing Man" and everyone who ever changed the world just by living.

 8:53 AM

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?