A Bird in the Hand and a Few on the Line

“Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson

Way back in the time of the dinosaurs, I learned this poem. Once in a while it pops back into my head, unbidden, but clear as a bird song in the early morning air. It’s something I’ve held on to lately, hope, not the poem. Hope for what? I’m not sure. Hoping for good things to really happen. Hoping for the impossible? Hoping I don’t fall short.

Maybe I shouldn’t over-analyze it. Maybe I should simply enjoy the way the words trip over my tongue and roll out. Maybe I should just let it work its magic on my subconscious.

Speaking of birds…

Isn’t this a fun picture?

Birds in a row (Photo credit: The Wren Design)

The Most and the Least

 “The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.” – Barbara Kingsolver, from Animal Dream

One more word image of a bird

“Hold fast to dreams,

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird,

That cannot fly.” – Langston Hughes

Some days, for some of us, hope is elusive. But there are always dreams, aren’t there? That’s something.

Looking for a good day ahead where I can. It’s out there, just gotta keep my eyes open.

Happy Monday!