Hope

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.
~Emily Dickinson


On this snowy day I wanted to share one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems. I am going to make some sort of craft with these words - still thinking about - The picture also reminds me that Spring is just around the corner........