Hope

In, perhaps, my darkest hours many years back, I remember that I joint Nature Society and began attending birdwatching sessions organized by them. It was calming to hear the birds singing at the dawn of a day and flying gracefully and freely in the sky. It was refreshing to be amongst enthusiasts; fascinated by the beauty of the birds and the pursuit to ensure that birds continue to have a place on this world that we share. 


Amongst nature, I seem so small and my problems almost insignificant. Nature always has a healing effect. Birds always give us hope. Maybe we can find some answers in this poem by Emily Dickinson:

Hope     

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.

Perhaps, for those in need, in trouble, in pain; what is needed is hope. May be for those of us who can, we need to plant hope, create hope, grow hope; for those who need them. Do it silently, for hope will sing. You need no credit for having done something good. 

Fear can hope you prisoner, but Hope will set you free --- From the movie "Shawshank Redemption"

Chris