"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free"


Wednesday, August 31, 2011

A poem

I recently read this poem and I just love it.  The description of hope was very nice along w/ the bird metaphor.

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.

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