Saturday, May 26, 2012

The thing with feathers

Sadly, this nest will never yield any hatchlings - it was abandoned last year. I found it last week when I was cleaning out the birdhouses.  It resonates pretty strongly with me as my house remains empty, but it also makes me think of my favorite Emily Dickinson poem.

“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.


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