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