A bit more than a month ago, I was searching the net for inspiration for a title for a short story I had just written (I’m really bad at titles) and I found this poem by Emily Dickinson. I thought I’d share with you…
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 chillest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.