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.
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.
Emily Dickinson
2 comments:
one of my favorite poems!!! I love that we love so many of the same thing, feels like we've almost lead parallel lives, too bad it took us so long to find each other, we have Joellen to thank and our lucky stars!!!
I just felt the touch of a wing feather move the air right past me....
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