Hope is the Thing with Feathers

by Emily Dickinson

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 chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

***

I first encounteres this poem in grade school.

I won't forget Row 2 and the rest of my Rowmates every time I remember this poem. :)

They say that to be without hope surely means to have given up on life.
Many people live in extremely challenging situations, leading hard lives in appalling conditions. What keeps people going in such circumstances is the glimmer of hope that things can change.

This is all I got too.
My faith has been challenged and my confidence has been put through the wringer
Yet I know someday, it'll make perfect sense.

Hope is a free gift.
It exists for all of us.
All we must do is not clip the wings of hope and let it fly and sing freely.
Its song can be heard over the strangest seas, coldest lands, and in the worst storms.
It is a song that never ends as long as we do not let it.