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 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 extemity
It asked a crumb of me
Emily Dickens, Hope
(thank you...)
6 comments:
And today is new, so renaissance/renascimento/rebirth.
This one isaltogether lighter,brighter and conveys hope in its visualisation of motion. I'm glad!
Your topic and choice of author fits the day. Cheers.
I'm always blown away by how perfectly you pick the piece of writing to accompany your art. Just brilliant!
Hope is the last thing that remains, some say....
Those words & that image match perfectly. I love the part about hope having feathers, it reminds me that it also has wings to let our spirits soar.
So light and outward flowing, need to stick it in my head.
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