Poetry Chaikhana Blog

Every Day as Wide as a Field
by Naomi Shihab Nye

1

And there were so many more poems to read!
Countless friends to listen to.
We didn’t have to be in the same room—
the great modern magic.
Everywhere together now.
Even scared together now
from all points of the globe
which lessened it somehow.
Hopeful together too, exchanging
winks in the dark, the little lights blinking.
When your hope shrinks
you might feel the hope of
someone far away lifting you up.
Hope is the thing…
Hope was always the thing!
What else did we give each other
from such distances?
Breath of syllables,
sing to me from your balcony
please! Befriend me
in the deep space.
When you paused for a poem
it could reshape the day
you had just been living.

/ Image by Tito Rollis /

A poem today by the wonderful Palestinian-American poet, Naomi Shihab Nye.

Standing outside
staring at a tree
gentles our eyes

Aren’t those wonderful opening lines?

I encourage you to say the lines out loud. Standing. Staring. That alliteration, with the “st-st.” And a secondary level of alliteration with the use of the “t” sound in nearly every word of these first few lines. We can play with the lines on our tongue. St-anding. St-aring. Out-side. T-ree. Gent-les.

And then we remember to pay attention to the words, what they are saying.

She gives us permission to pause and gaze at a tree. It “gentles” our eyes. That line works on two levels. Looking at the tree makes our gaze and, more generally, our awareness gentler — somehow kinder to the world and to ourselves, at ease, at peace. But it also suggests that contemplating a tree tames the eyesight and, by extension, the mind. Do we let the eyes go wild and slice up reality into parcels that the erratic mind can then choose to latch onto or ignore? By resting with a patient green neighbor, we train the mind to cease its evasions and grasping, taming it to encounter the present moment.

Minds stretching

beyond the field
become
their own skies

We expand. The world around us opens.

Words can become windows. A poem a doorway.

Look through a word
swing that sentence
wide open

We just have to quiet down, so we can notice which phrases want to open for us — then we step through.

Kneeling outside
to find
sturdy green

glistening blossoms
under the breeze
that carries us silently

The second section of the poem seems to step back and give is a broader sense of what she is saying:

And there were so many more poems to read!
Countless friends to listen to.

Poetry. Friends. Poems as friends. Friends speaking to us through poetry, through space, through time.

Coming together, a shared community which invites us to join in. When we feel disconnected, words of wisdom, words of kindness, words of vision reconnect us.

Hope is the thing …
Hope was always the thing!

Shared hopes. Or, when hope eludes us, shared fears. The whole human experience. Sharing allows us to recognize ourselves in each other. Seeing deeply into another, we come to know ourselves more fully.

That’s where real transformation happens. When we allow ourselves to slip into the awareness of our shared being, as a good poem invites us to do, doors open in us.

When you paused for a poem
it could reshape the day
you had just been living.

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A reminder to myself: Ivan, challenge yourself to connect with and protect vulnerable outsiders in your community. Learn to balance inner peace with a fiery voice and firm action. Raise good trouble. Upset the people you have to. Kindle a kind heart.

More poetry by Naomi Shihab Nye

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