another winter that will pass
atleast...that's the hope
who knew angsting about it
could lead to hope?
i love this place..
i know i do..
but right now..
everything inside is throwing a tantrum.
everything falls..
everything does..
it does..
but this
the Source of the stream
that tinkles inside my heart
i know He doesn't
He can't
it's not possible.
i'll wait.
and i will find you here...
even here.
"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.
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.
-Emily Dickinson
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