Hope is the Thing With Feathers

I love poetry. In school dissecting a poem to reveal its true meaning was actually fun for me...Today when I read poetry I focus more on the feeling it evokes within and what the words mean to me, rather than what the author meant when it was written. I think on one day a poem can have one meaning to you and on another something completely different depending on where you are in your life. They also have that way-much like songs do of transporting you (or reminding oneself) of another time in life-especially if it was a poem that had a particularly strong effect. I also enjoy learning what poems (or pieces of literature) other people enjoy. I think it speaks volumes about them (pun-totally intended). I thought it would be fun to share (on occasion) my favorite poems. I would love to hear what you have to say about this poem, what it means to you etc. If you appreciate poetry or even write a bit of it on occasion, please share your favorite poems by other authors or yourself in the comment section (linking up to your own posts is very welcome). Lets share!

Hope is the thing with feathersThat 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 stormThat could abash the little birdThat 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.

Hope is the Thing With Feathers by Emily Dickinson

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