Famous
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 him 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.
I have been thinking about what this poems says to me today;
We are all famous because of what we do in our lives and what we could do with/for another. They say," beauty is in the eye of the beholder". I would add that" fame is in the heart of the beholder". Sometimes someone becomes famous perhaps only to you , in your own private heart because of a small gesture of kindness, appreciation, friendship, a look of acceptance and understanding of how you became to be the you are right now and they, the they are as well, the best kind of fame,I think....
“Famous” from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems (Portland, Oregon: Far Corner Books, 1995). Copyright © 1995 by Naomi Shihab Nye. Used by permission of the author.
Source: Words under the Words: Selected Poems (Far Corner Books, 1995)
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