Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all…
Emily Dickinson understood it, hope, the feathered thing that sings on — most of the time.
When I woke up early this morning, reasons not hope came to mind — the news of the continuing BP Deep Horizon oil spill and other ugly bits and pieces of life like that, the disasters in some of my friend’s lives, feathered things, flopping in the goo, sick or dying.
Hope is challenged by the craziness out there, lives lost, ocean creatures yet to perish, all that thick brown crude oil gushing into our clear, life-rich, beautiful, blue sea this morning and probably tomorrow morning too.
The brown oil swirled early today, a thick, gooey mess near the surface of my waking thoughts. But then, this morning, fortunately, sweet, brilliant Emily Dickinson also came to mind — and hope. I”ll put that in my head, all day, and not stop at all.
I say, hope on and sing on too.
Wipe off the ugly oil from your wings you fine feathered friends of mine and sing on. There is other news online today.
Sing on over the space shuttle Atlantis that landed safely this morning, having traveled over 120 million miles in its life.
Sing on over Crystal Bowersox. A single mom with a fresh sound and a tune in her honest, open, loving heart didn’t win American Idol but she won the hearts of so many young Americans.
Sing on over hybrid automobiles and electric cars and natural gas-powered cars. A new era is coming when we will abandon the oil gulping, earth-trashing days of the past and take care to nurture the fragile earth we spin gentle on.
Sing on over new homes. Housing starts rose to an annual rate of 672000 in April, the fastest pace since October 2008.
Sing over recovery, success, change, newness. I know that this is not all there is in the news today.
But I say, sing on my feathered friends and don’t stop at all.
Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
Pr. 13.12
Thrive! 