In rememberance of my Uncle John.
As I remember his cheerful smile it lifts me in this difficult time, his laughter and encouraging ways eases my pain, his vibrant spirit strengthens my faith; may we live life to the fullest and cherish our friends and family as my dearest Uncle John Swift did everyday. And so I offer in memoriam this special poem of "Hope" by one of my favorite poets Emily Dickinson.
Hope" is the thing with feathers
"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.
Emily Dickinson