Hope

“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 in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never- in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.

Such a short little poem.  So easy to read.  So easy to understand.  And, at least for me, so powerful and appropriate at this time.