Hope is a Thing with Feathers

So says Emily Dickinson, the American poet said to be one of the most significant presences in American poetry. I came across her poem, ” ‘Hope’ is the Thing with Feathers”, during a study of poetry for English language arts in school, and it’s stuck with me.

“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.

I understand completely Emily’s metaphorical use of a bird to describe hope. Hope is a bit flighty – you’re never quite sure if it’ll always stick with you, though it does wing its way back eventually. It’s most present in the mornings, singing like a sparrow, and not as apparent at night, when worries come to life. And when hope does decide to perch with you for a while, it’s as beautiful as watching a hummingbird’s zig-zagging flight, or witnessing an eagle’s salmon hunt, or hearing the croak of a raven in a misty forest.

And, like I said in my post for February’s photos of the month, sometimes hope is all we have. We can be in the most desolate situation, and yet still, as Emily says, hope keeps so many warm. It’s the tiny sparrow collecting seeds in winter; it’s the cedar waxwings eating mountain ash berries; it’s the robin, promising spring with its bright red belly. Resiliency.

Now more than ever hope is needed to endure and stay resilient. It’s that whisper of a promise that can keep so many going, even in times where the going isn’t so great. Remember that hope is the thing with feathers – treasure your little bird whenever it perches with you.