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“Hope Is the Thing With Feathers”

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)
“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.
Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson Edited by R. W. Franklin (Harvard University Press, 1999)
Hope is the thing with feathers,
the thing that can be blown away
with the hot air of hatred.
Hope is the thing with feathers,
that seems impossible to grasp
in the midst of violence.
Hope is the thing with feathers
that changes words of dissent
into words of peace and love.
Hope is the thing with feathers
that floats across hearts and minds
but can stay if we but grab hold tightly.