This poem is a special poem that I have remembered since the day I first discovered it.
It seems to be even more fitting right now.
Hope you love it too.
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
Ive heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet never in Extremity
It asked a crumb of me
Photo by Xander Ashwell on Unsplash