Nothing is too small. Nothing is too, quote-unquote, ordinary or

"Nothing is too small. Nothing is too, quote-unquote, ordinary or insignificant. Those are the things that make up the measure of our days, and they're the things that sustain us. And they're the things that certainly can become worthy of poetry." Thus spoke Rita Dove, a modern poet with the wisdom of the ancients flowing through her voice. In this teaching lies a gentle yet profound truth: that greatness is not only found in towering deeds or shattering events, but also in the ordinary. The cup of tea in the morning, the glance of a loved one, the quiet rhythm of footsteps on a street—these are the small moments that form the fabric of existence. Though often overlooked, they are what sustain the soul, and in their quiet persistence, they are worthy of poetry.

The ancients themselves understood this mystery. The Japanese haiku, brief as a breath, finds eternity in a single image: a frog leaping into a pond, the hush of autumn rain, the sudden bloom of a flower. These poems remind us that the insignificant is not without meaning—it is often the very doorway to wonder. Rita Dove’s words echo this ancient insight: that what we call “small” is, in truth, the foundation of life’s greatness.

History, too, bears witness to the power of the ordinary. Consider Anne Frank, a young girl who recorded her days in the secrecy of a hidden attic. She wrote of small irritations, of daily meals, of the fragile joys of adolescence. And yet those ordinary details became one of the most powerful documents of the twentieth century, giving voice to millions silenced by war. The world did not find poetry in the grand strategies of generals alone—it found it in the small moments of a girl writing by candlelight.

We are often tempted to dismiss the humble in search of the grand. Men dream of monuments, of titles, of achievements that history will remember. But what sustains us daily is not these towering things. It is bread, it is conversation, it is laughter shared with friends, it is the warmth of a home. When these are absent, life withers, no matter how many great accomplishments we possess. Rita Dove reminds us that the measure of our days lies not in rare peaks, but in the steady rhythm of small things.

And so, poetry is not only about gods, wars, and empires. It is about the fragile, the fleeting, the ordinary. A mother braiding her child’s hair is as worthy of verse as the speech of a king. A bird alighting on a windowsill carries as much meaning as the fall of a city. The poet’s eye, like the eye of the wise, sees no hierarchy in experience—all is sacred, all is worthy, all is alive with meaning.

The lesson is simple, yet heroic: do not despise the ordinary. Look for beauty in the daily, for therein lies the true sustenance of the soul. To live fully is not only to strive for greatness but to see greatness in what already surrounds you. Train your heart to honor the “insignificant,” and you will discover that nothing in life is truly small.

Practically, this means paying attention. Keep a journal, notice the sunrise, listen to the laughter of children, give thanks for a shared meal. These are not interruptions of life—they are life itself. And if you are moved, set them into words, for in them lies the raw material of poetry. Even if no one else reads it, your soul will be nourished by the act of honoring the ordinary.

So remember, children of tomorrow: "nothing is too small." Life is not built of monuments but of moments. The ordinary is not the enemy of greatness—it is its foundation. Celebrate the daily, cherish the fleeting, and you will find that all things, from the simplest to the grandest, shine with the same divine light. This is Rita Dove’s wisdom: that poetry begins not in distant heights, but in the fragile, beautiful measure of our days.