"The Traveling Onion" - Naomi Shihab Nye

I went to my second "Introduction to Poetry Writing" class at the U of A Poetry Center tonight. We had to "critique" each other's poems. The assignment was to use repetition, and next week we have to write a story poem. It's very, very intimidating. I'll speak more on that at another time, just say I don't understand how so many of my students can clamor to share something they've just written. It sure is hard for me! But it did give me the chance to immerse myself in poetry for the first time in a long time, and I've stopped a few times this week to take the time to read my favorite poet, Naomi Shihab Nye. I love her poems, I love her essays. She creates the richest images I've ever read. What follows is one of my very favorites: The Traveling Onion When I think how far the onion has traveled just to enter my stew today, I could kneel and praise all small forgotten miracles, crackly paper peeling on the drainboard, pearly layers in smooth agreement, the way knife enters onion and onion falls apart on the chopping block, a history revealed. And I would never scold the onion for causing tears. It is right that tears fall for something small and forgotten. How at meal, we sit to eat, commenting on texture of meat or herbal aroma but never on the translucence of onion, now limp, now divided, or its traditionally honorable career: For the sake of others, disappear. — Naomi Shihab Nye from Words Under the Words