It has been unusual for me to awaken at an odd hour of the early
morning and feel rested. My recent illness was healed by days of
on-and-off sleepy rest. So, now I know I can awaken at any hour of
the 24 and be at rest in heart and mind.

How long that lasts is pretty much up to me. Never be surprised at
the hour I may do my daily!
Around 2:30 a.m. i came across this poem in a new anthology,
curated by Billy Collins:


The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to the 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 smiles 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 did.


True to one’s course, the shadowless shadow, pretty much what you see
is what you get. I know you by your responses here on these pages,
and for me you are famous.

with love …