The Bird Who Gives Us Hope No Matter How Dark The Day

I’ve published lots of posts on white feathers and white doves. The following poem was pointed out to me because of this. It’s about how hope comes to us, like a bird, no matter how dark the day.

I hadn’t heard of the poem previously or the poet. I’ve since found out that Emily Dickinson was an American poet, 1830 – 1886, who was born in Amherst, Massachusetts.

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the so,
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

Other Poetry Posts:
Death Is Nothing At All
The Young Soul Of The Cranky Old Man
We All Need Love And Kindness Not Bullying And Hate