Friday, May 14, 2021

Poetry Friday: Hope is the thing with feathers


Light beginning to dawn 
after the long night of Covid. 
Family fully vaxxed. 
I still gasp at this truth. 
Daughters seeing their grandparents.
Me, seeing my parents, 
alive and walking and talking, 
after Covid maimed and 
nearly claimed them. 
Recovery. Light. Daybreak. 
Creation. 

It's been an outlandish year, 
unquestionably.  
But also a bizarre few years. 
It's all just life, yes. 
Still, life leaves its mark. 
One thing 
after another
after another 
after another 
has changed me, affected me, 
silenced me, touched me, 
spoken to me. 
As a writer, a poet, 
a human, a mother, a wife, 
friend, sister, aunt. 
Dawn returns, that's an eternal truth. 
Beginnings. 
A time to stretch 
and reclaim what's been lost.


 And now it's time for Emily. 


Hope is the thing with feathers 


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.

(This poem is in the public domain.) 

~~~~~~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round-up today is being hosted by the incomparable Irene Latham, at Live Your Poem



Photo thanks to fokustier at Pixabay

13 comments:

Tabatha said...

It really has been one thing after another, hasn't it? Thank goodness for daybreak and the thing with feathers.

Jonathan Rivera said...

Thanks for sharing such a powerful second stanza. I love the repitition of "after another"

(Also the prove you're not a robot to publish the comment is difficult! LOL)

penelope said...

{{Just hit publish without doing the robot test. The system allows for it to be skipped}}

Karen, lovely poems, hooray for the vax. Am so pleased for you all, being able to be together! (My son gets his second in a few days, then me the week after — am still sick from the first one!).

Linda Mitchell said...

I feel your poem...that hope that comes with the dawn after a really, really rough night -- or year of them. What a perfect conversation to have with Emily.

Bridget Magee said...

Your poem is all of us, Karen. "Dawn returns, that's an eternal truth." and Emily's feathered hope are just what I needed to read. Thank you. :)

Mary Lee said...

What a year. I'm glad your family made it through intact. So much to be grateful for, including the HOPE that carried us through.

Linda B said...

I'm happy for your news of your family, traveling through this year fraught with worry, to emerge with hope. Wishing you more, Karen.

Karen Edmisten said...

Thanks, everyone, for being such faithful friends and companions in the insanity of this world, especially over the last year. What would I have done without my Poetry Friday pals? :)

Jonathan, sorry Blogger gave you such a hard time! I think Penelope is right and that you can bypass it. :)

Penelope, hooray for second shots, but I'm sorry you're still sick from the first one! Take care.

jama said...

Your beautiful words perfectly capture what we've all felt and experienced this past year. Somehow we held onto hope (and still do) -- so relieved and happy your parents are okay. Let's hear it for the dawn and new beginnings and hooray for science!

Carol Varsalona said...

With hope we all shall endure. This year has also: "changed me, affected me,
silenced me, touched me,
spoken to me." Thanks Karen for your words.

Karen Edmisten said...

Jama and Carol, thank you, friends! Here's to hope. :)

Elisabeth said...

Your poem captures both the relentless feeling that we can get when it seems that life is piling on, and the tentative feeling of lightness that comes when things seem to be easing up at last.

(I have an excerpt from that Emily Dickinson poem on my desk :-)

Karen Edmisten said...

Hi, Elisabeth — ah, Emily should accompany us all daily at our desks. :)
Thanks so much!