A Thing Called Hope

Hope His 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 

Hope is needed in great quantities these days. Sometimes, we actually need a reminder that there is always hope, even in the darkest moments. I had one such reminder as I watched a flock of robins feeding on the lawn. One was up on a branch singing to beat the band. Emily's poem popped into my head, along with the reminder not to despair. Then, my teacher's mind realized this was a teachable moment! 

In many cultures, birds are messengers from the Great Spirit, the Creator, God. Birds are symbolic of angels. They can be found everywhere, yet, are fleeting and difficult to hold onto. 

Hope is the same way, I think. We need it when things are chaotic and distressful, but, we forget about it when we centered in joy. Hope comes and goes in our lives, much like the birds - sometimes there are flocks of them around us, while other times, there is but one high in the branches of a tree singing us its sweet song. 

I wish for you, today, visions of hope. May they fill your heart, ease your pain and bring you support during difficult times. May you hear songs of hope throughout your day. 



Popular posts from this blog

Ancestors, All Souls and the Modern World

'Tis the Season

To Rise Again