A question came to mind regarding hope.

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.

This poem is in the public domain.

Emily Dickinson

(I LOVE Emily Dickinson)

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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.

This poem is in the public domain.

Emily Dickinson

(I LOVE Emily Dickinson)

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This really interested me! Thanks for posting. I wonder if "hope" helps a person physically or maybe that hope is based on things being somewhat ok. What is your opinion? Do you feel we should focus more on being hopeful?

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From personal experience, I am now 80 years old. I was raised by a single mother, one of four, I was the only boy. Mother was born in 1922 with an eighth grade education. I remember “hard-times”, including not having electricity or running water, and having little or no food. Interestingly, just this morning I was thinking of the word “clabber” , because that was one of the foods we ate when there was nothing else. I promise you hope was all we had and it was enough. Our “hope” was in the Lord Jesus Christ.

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I recall Camus's book "The Plague" and lean on the understanding that all we have in life (period) is "Hope". There are no guarantees that exist from planning or prayer, for life has a way of interfering when we least expect it. Hope is personal, but not selfish. And I feel hope is the most positive variable I have in my personal arsenal of hopes, wishes, and desires. And like so many of us here at this group, I hope to survive on as little pain as possible so that I may hope to enjoy my end times, like my mother did.

My mother died from the infirmities of old age at 98 years 8 days. And she had a good mind close to the end, smiling and engaging in gentle conversations with a room full of family members. I can still remember that adorable, innocent, childlike smile on her face. She was ready to let go and went in peace.

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I recall Camus's book "The Plague" and lean on the understanding that all we have in life (period) is "Hope". There are no guarantees that exist from planning or prayer, for life has a way of interfering when we least expect it. Hope is personal, but not selfish. And I feel hope is the most positive variable I have in my personal arsenal of hopes, wishes, and desires. And like so many of us here at this group, I hope to survive on as little pain as possible so that I may hope to enjoy my end times, like my mother did.

My mother died from the infirmities of old age at 98 years 8 days. And she had a good mind close to the end, smiling and engaging in gentle conversations with a room full of family members. I can still remember that adorable, innocent, childlike smile on her face. She was ready to let go and went in peace.

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I appreciate reading comments that are positive and thought provoking. Now I will review the book “The Plague” and think of the word “hope” in a more
Ongoing way. Thank you for the post.

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I recall Camus's book "The Plague" and lean on the understanding that all we have in life (period) is "Hope". There are no guarantees that exist from planning or prayer, for life has a way of interfering when we least expect it. Hope is personal, but not selfish. And I feel hope is the most positive variable I have in my personal arsenal of hopes, wishes, and desires. And like so many of us here at this group, I hope to survive on as little pain as possible so that I may hope to enjoy my end times, like my mother did.

My mother died from the infirmities of old age at 98 years 8 days. And she had a good mind close to the end, smiling and engaging in gentle conversations with a room full of family members. I can still remember that adorable, innocent, childlike smile on her face. She was ready to let go and went in peace.

Jump to this post