Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Little Bird 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 the chilliest land
and on the strangest sea;
yet, never, in extremity,
it asked a crumb of me."
Sometimes the little bird hope seems very small, almost hidden in the branches of my heart. On those days when hope is difficult to find, when I feel deflated and situations seem so very hard to bear, if I listen carefully in a quiet moment I can hear hope's tiny song in the hazy parts of my mind. It's quiet song sustains me and tells me to be patient, to breathe slowly and wait for peace to come in whatever form. Sometimes it is hard to lean on this little bird's uncommon and unlikely strength, but I have found if I just stop and cling to the small part of me that remains strong, I will weather any storm. Hope is ever-present and even a small bit can warm our hearts on the darkest and coldest of days.
On those brighter days when all the world seems charmed and full, the little bird hope steps out with a flourish of feathers, encouraging me with it's bright song that life is full of beauty and grace. No matter the circumstance, hope's presence is felt in large and small ways...never abashed, always supporting, ever aware.