Wednesday, August 12, 2015

["Hope" is the thing with feathers] - Emily Dickinson

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

Hope can never be wiped out, and no matter how extreme the circumstance, it "sings the tune without the words - and never stops at all."  It is the endless optimism that cannot be knocked down by even the fiercest Gale.  Best of all, it never asks a thing of you, just giving tirelessly.  That is the nature of Hope, that tiny bird inside your soul.  I think I would do well to memorize this one.

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