Hope is that feathered bird, that wonderful creature and there is part of our soul. It never stops to sing and to inspire us. This is poem 394, also known as “Hope” is the thing with feathers, written by the American poet Emily Dickinson (1830-1886).
This poem is meant to inspire. Dickinson is one of the many jewels that are part of the legacy of her. This impressive legacy still inspires people today. In this poem, she has but one solution: listen to that inner voice, it is singing and this brings only one thing: inspiration. Consider this voice as a concert of hope, which will get you through the most difficult times.
The poem that Dickinson wrote is actually part of a larger poem we know as Life. She must have written this poem somewhere around 1862. The part we are discussing here, thrives on the beliefs of Dickinson, that there will always be an answer. Even when life isn’t treating you right.
What better way to use the bird as a metaphor, than in the first sentence. This thing with feathers is obviously a bird. Feathers are soft and they even bring warmth. These feathers are also a way to tell the reader, that hope flies (with feathers). This is the answer to another metaphor: broken wings. This metaphor is used, to state the problems in life, the ones that hold you back.
So, how about this song? We can hear this song above the sound of the wind (Gale). There is more, this will eventually make the storm calm. Anyone who would try to destroy this hope would eventually feel the pain caused.
The best part of the poem is saved for the last part. This bird, this feathered thing, it asks nothing in return. Therefore, hope is nothing more than a free gift and it exists in every one of us. There is only one thing we need to be cautious of: never clip those wings of hope and make sure this feathered thing can fly in total freedom. Then, this creature sings and it can be heard everywhere: sea and land.
Isn’t that beautiful?
This is perhaps one of the most beautiful poems about hope, ever written.
Poem 394: “Hope” is the thing with feathers
“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.