Whenever I see a feather, as I did today while out walking, I am reminded of Emily Dickinson's inspirational poem, Hope.
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.
~ Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
American poet
