“Hope is the thing with feathers”—and so goes Fuddles, full of life and dreams.

‘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. 

a feather
The real life model for Fuddles.
HOPE – this seems a well-deserved topic and timely poem for many reasons right now.
  • It is a poem dear friends shared with me, and I think of often. It is a poem to remind me of both of them, and I love that.
  • It is a poem about a thing with feathers! Have you met up yet with Fuddles? Fuddles is my feather and is the Feather of Wonder and Awe. I’m not even sure how but somehow wonder, and awe, is tied into HOPE!? Fuddles is the main character of my up and coming first children’s picture book. I am getting closer to the “magic” that just may sprinkle some of its dust on me. That’s all I shall say for the time being-other than there is lot of HOPE right now around it.
  • Hope lives in our souls and speaks to a future with a promise. It is hope that not only sheds tears of despair, but can help us realize that things will somehow get a little bit brighter. Somewhere, somehow, a star will shine. I surely can’t say it better than Emily Dickenson so elegantly states …

“Hope…perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—”

  • Hope is that silent partner that at times keeps us going, trying, working, struggling, soaring, dreaming, and moving forward. Big choices and small, often it’s hard to keep hope at levels that don’t demand our  nervous systems, our minds, and our souls to do somersaults in our insides. If we are lucky, the metaphorical cartwheels manifest on the outside!

Dream on and keep your hopes alive, it keeps life interesting and much happier.

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