Thursday, May 5

DEDICATED TO "THE ANCHORESS"

"The Anchoress", among my favorites on my "short list" of superb writers in the blogosphere, has returned from her cruise, but has been and remains under the weather, although valiantly trying to delight her audience no matter how ill she is. The beautiful line in her poem, published in this post by her son -- "All I want to be is a feather on the breath of God" -- brought to mind this lovely poem by Emily Dickinson, which I now dedicate to "The Anchoress" in hopes it will provide her with some encouragement as she fights off a plucky virus:


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.