“Hope” is the thing with feathers - (314)
“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.
I have always loved this poem. It is such a beautiful way to think of hope. Feathers, to keep warm and feathers to fly. The National bird of India is the Peacock. I wonder if the children of FOCI see hope in the feathers of the Peacock. I think they should. Because I believe that hope is not a small or fragile thing, but instead, it is a grand and beautiful thing. Big and confident and hard to miss. Hope stares poverty right in the eye and scares the heck out it! Hope is the thing that FOCI gives.
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