This poem by Emily Dickinson came to my attention this afternoon. In this time of uncertainty, when it is difficult to see a path to a more positive tomorrow, I thought you might also like to read it.
“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.
Stella's Place 
That small white feather is what I like to see, for I know an angel is close to me! It whispers I’m on the right path!
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I really like this one.
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A good thought in an uncertain time. Makes me feel less abandoned when I’m sad.
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