Peace in Ukraine, a poem of hope.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers-

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without 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.

—-Emily Dickenson

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