When I see a feather I always pick it up. Feather’s remind me of the promise in Psalm 91:4
“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.”
This scripture and the poem, Hope is the thing with feathers, by Emily Dickinson, inspired the poem below.
Before you read stop and think about hope: What is it to you? Why is it so essential? Where does hope come from?
If hope is “a thing with feathers that perches in the soul,”
Its song must clear the cobwebbed hearts of those who need to
Don’t give in to hopelessness;
Despair will take its toll.
Sing clear, feathered one, for your message truly must be heard.
Hope is something lost and found; inspected and observed.
Can I see the day again?
Is hope a thing assured?
Look here, a flock of hope-filled friends perch near a quivering soul;
Singing through the soul’s black night with peace, the one
Don’t give in to fear and shame;
Their grip is icy cold.
The weary soul lifts up its head and cocks a shining eye,
For hope has been there in its breast, and now begins to cry,
“Please retract pain’s iron claw;
Release my heart to fly.”
Winged friends, sing words of truth to their sorrowful dear one;
You’re not alone upon this path; God sent His only Son.
His sacrifice paid the price;
The victory is won.
Under the shadow of His wing, you’ll find your way back home.
He’ll hold you till the dark recedes and fear and shame have flown.
Hope is here within your grasp—
Just grab and take a hold.
Sing, feathered ones, louder now for the light is breaking through.
The wounded soul lifts up its head and cries, “What can I do?
Take my pain and weariness—
I give it all to you.”
Despair, along with fear and shame, no longer can remain;
Truth clearly chased them from the soul who’ll never be the same.
Hope is assured; trust in Him,
The Name above all names.
A wing unfurls, a chest lifts up, and little bird takes wing.
Radiant beams the messenger that causes souls to sing.
Hope in Him who gives the song,
Fly in the strength He brings.
Now friends and bird take to the air with wings outstretched in joy
The soul once sad calls out a song and friends shout in reply:
“He is our strength and our hope;
His faithfulness is sure.”
Wings and voices blend and rise to Him who will endure.
By: Joleen Steel
2 thoughts on “Hope is the thing with feathers”
Love that poem!
Thanks Donna! It’s a real encouragement to know it’s loved by you.