"Hope" is the thing with feathers
By Emily Dickinson
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 read this poem and I was struck with the beauty of the metaphor.
But as I continued to read, I began to think about what my "Hope" truly is.
John MacArthur says,"Truth is that which is consistent with the mind, will, character, glory, and being of God."
Ravi Zacharias says, "Truth is reality as God sees it."
Therefore my "Hope" is in God alone.
Psalm 65:5 "For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him."
He, the LORD, is my Hope, and the best metaphors are found in his word:
Psalm 18:2 "The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."
Jeremiah 23:29 "Is not my word like a fire, declares the LORD..."
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"Hope" is not the thing with feathers
By Natasha Maule
Cut the cords of this World’s philosophies-those
hopeless tethers-
Those sweet, alluring words that say: “ ‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers”.
For our “Hope” is of a calling much, much higher,
Not- mere warmth- but an all-consuming Fire.
And even in the coldest lands it burns,
Because, in some souls there yearns,
To spread this “Hope” across the strangest sea-
And yes- this Fire will ask much of me.
For my LORD has placed it in my soul- and it sings.
It repels and buffets the World’s wanton things.
With it, trials and strife, I can face.
For God-my Hope- is my brace.
For surely our Fortress is not a thing of fiberous down,
Nor is our Rock a thing that shivers and is thrown down!
He who is our Hope, let that sing and be heard,
For God-our Fire, Fortress, Rock-our Hope-
is not-a feeble
bird.
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