Brain Food #421
Hope is the thing with feathers
Daily Brain Food.
Thoughts of the day
Sometimes the things we need the most are the ones we cannot see around us, but the ones we can find within.
Hope is fleeting, intangible, but essential and, according to Emily Dickinson, perched in our soul, giving us as much as we need without ever asking for a crumb in return.
It is omnipresent; especially in the toughest moments, all we need to do is pay attention, and we will listen to its song.
The poem was published in 1891. It is hard to pinpoint the context in which it was written, but maybe that is exactly the point: finding hope in our darkest moments surpasses any historical event.
Hope is the thing with feathers
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.
“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”