The Art of Disappearing

Naomi Shihab Nye

I think the beauty of Naomi Shihab Nye’s poetry is its nonchalance. Elsewhere, I remember a critic talking about her writing as reflecting the “gleam of particulars”. Her poems have the rhythm of a leisurely stroll, a gentle movement of a limb under a blanket of imagery, and before you know it, the last couple of lines tighten around your heart. She gifts her words to the everydayness of things, drawing from cultural context as well as a deep reserve of experience.

It is not that her writing is frivolous or ‘light’ - quite the contrary. She has this uncanny ability to cut through the noise and speak to the heart of things. Her philosophy of hope is annotated with a quiet certainty, and a deep appreciation of the mysteries of the world. This love for beautiful things allows a simplicity, and clarity of thought that strikes an honest chord with the reader.

Often, as it is with good poetry, and with today’s poem as well - I feel like “I needed to hear this”.