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.

Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

By Emily Dickinson

9 Comments on “Hope

    • So true! Now the rain came after a month of drought. Trees, shrubs and flowers have exploded in overwhelming lushness. It is life-affirming indeed.

  1. Vackra bilder som verkligen andas harmoni. Längtar tills jag också kan sätta min kajak i vattnet. 🙂

    • Hej Meggie. Det er suverænt, når man glider sagte gennem vandet, og oplever naturen helt tæt på 😎
      Tak!!

    • Thanks for that, Tanja. Yes, it’s a wonderful poem.
      Happy springtime to you too!!!

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