Hope

“Hope” Is The Thing With Feathers – a poem 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.

Hope is afforded to us whenever we are willing to let the spirit of love into our hearts. Hope is the radiant glow which illuminates the darkness of the future and warms the chilly morning air. Hope whispers: “peace, be still” to the weary and tender-hearted, while sparking the embers of our dreams.

Hold on to hope, but not with a tight-fisted grasp. Hold on to hope by yielding more completely to love, by letting go of debilitating fear and by letting the boundless enthusiasm which springs eternal in every heart find expression through you.

3 thoughts on “Hope

  • That’s a lovely and accurate description. Trying to hope without a basis for doing so is the source of much multiplied tragedy, but where the centering is in love, hope does reach out quite naturally into the future as an illuminating beam. It has been said that genuine, selfless love never fails. Knowing that is the basis for the reality of hope!

    • Thank you for your sound words in light of Gregg’s consideration of hope. It is good to change perspective from a wishful hope to a confidence in reality.

  • Beautiful poem. It’s so true about love. It seems to me it’s the primary spirit that when it fills the heart is then immediately complemented and expanded by all the other awaiting spirits such as truth, hope, mercy, faith, etc. There is no shortage of blessings for human kind when love rules our lives.

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