“Hope is the thing with feathers,
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without words,
That never stops at all.”
Emily Dickinson
It had been over two days now
Of almost non-stop moving snow
When I paused, and I saw him there
His red on white image, moved me so
Here, was a red beacon of feathered hope
Amidst, a never-ending, avalanche of white
Here, was a tiny, sage, representative of nature
Now singing out, assuring me that it would be alright
I stood there, mesmerized by his image and song
I called to my spouse, and she now marveled, too
We both smiled now, and we took a needed break
We both realized, that soon, Spring would rise anew
As I now thought about this tiny, singing, red beacon of hope in a tree
I quickly realized that my greatest teachers in life are birds and animals
This one had made me realize, that all this snow, would eventually melt
And, as I pictured Spring blossoms surrounding him, I marveled at it all
It had been over two days now,
Of almost non-stop moving snow;
When I paused, and I saw him there,
His red on white image, moved me so.
©February 2011, Mr. Ed
AM
Anna
Christine
small red on an ocean of white -
terrific scene and poem, Ed,
full of love and promise.
John
fee
Cheers,
Dan
God bless,
Lew
Of course, those of us living down here in Florida, somehow muddle through without it.
Thanks Dick