“Hope” is the thing with feathers
by 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.
~~~~~
Donna has the round up at Mainely Write.
11 comments:
Oh how I love Emily Dickinson. Thank you for bringing a little "hope" today.
This poem.
This line: "And never stops - at all -"
I had this poem memorized once. I need it back in the front of my brainfile.
I love this reminder that hope is a gift there for all of us. Thank you. xo
It's a poem that does not fail to touch us, Karen. Thanks for sending 'hope'!
Ah, Emily. This is one of those poems we memorized in school, and it was Hard, because we were Young but the words -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm
...has such deeper meaning now. Thanks for sharing this.
So many are clinging tenuously to that thing with feathers these days.
So beautiful. This is one I should commit to memory. Many bird poems today.
Now I need to see how many bird Poems we ha e today!
What a sweet, sweet hope!
That bird can perch on my windowsill any day. A favorite poem, like a silk sweater to wear on a cold morning.
Emily Dickinson is a favorite of mine as is this feathered poem of hope by her, thanks for sending it our way!
Happy to be sharing hopeful thoughts with you all.
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