“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.
See also the previous Wild Reed posts:
• The Empty Beach
• Active Hope
• Lost Hope
• When Sorrow Comes
• Something We Dare Call Hope
• Active Waiting: A Radical Attitude Toward Life
• “I Came Alive With Hope”
• Resilience and Hope
• Why “Revolutionary Love” Gives Michelle Alexander Hope
• Zack Polanski’s Message of Hope
• “The Answer, Actually, Is Hope”
• Like a Lotus Flower
• I Need Do Nothing . . . I Am Open to the Living Light
• Clarity and Hope
• A Day of Renewal
• Hope and Courage – Christmas 2024
• In the Eye of the Storm . . . A Tree of Living Flame
• A Sacred Pause
• In This In-Between Time
• My Love, “Return to the Root of the Root of Your Own Soul”
• Venice Williams on How We Get Through the Next Four Years
• Marianne Williamson on How to Psychologically Endure This Moment
• Silver Lining











No comments:
Post a Comment