Hope.

‘What are we human beings without hope’?    (The Moon Sister by Lucinda Reilly)

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I have always loved this poem by Emily Dickinson.  I don’t know when I first read it but it comes into my mind so often at times of difficulty, and I know it inspired me when writing my own ‘hopeful poetry’.  I keep asking Santa or the birthday fairy for a book of her poems, as yet it’s not arrived, but I will keep ‘Hoping’!

My week seems to have been full of reminders of hope.  I was walking Jess around the park the other day, there was a cold bite to the air and the sun was shimmering and dancing through the trees, it was a perfect English winter morning,  bright, fresh and crisp.  The weather on its own would have been enough to lift my spirits had they needed lifting, but what was unexpected was the overwhelming sense of hope that filled my heart, as I came across these daffodils, snowdrops and crocuses working their way into the world.

Although they are out rather early and sadly may not live through any extremes of winter weather still to come, I was still amazed at the strong feelings they aroused within me.  The hope of new life, of change, of a future yet to be.  I carried that feeling with me all week and couldn’t help but turn it into a blog post.

The Snowdrop is, of course, a real symbol of Hope.  It’s usually the first flower we see as we head towards spring and is always a reminder that the winter will end and our lives will be filled once again with a new warmth.  Here is my Snowdrop poem.

                                                     SNOWDROPS.

                                  As dark days of Winter, begin to abate

                                    And the face of hope is not far away

                                    First signs of Spring, begin to show

                                    Small white heads, above the snow.

                               Reminding the heart, that dark times fade

                                 And sadness for laughter, we can trade

                                 As nature performs, a wonderful thing

                         The changing of seasons, from Winter to Spring.

                                                                ~

The British troops fighting in the Crimean war christened the Snowdrop the ‘Flower of Consolation’.  The bare earth became alive with flowers and their flagging spirits were so revived that they dug them up and brought them home to plant in their gardens.

Hope is something that no one can take away from us.  As a verb, it can mean to  “expect with confidence”  or  “to cherish a desire with anticipation.”   I love the word  ‘cherished’  it makes me feel all wrapped up and cozy and what could be better than to live our lives wrapped in hope.  To live in a positive manner hoping for the best possible outcome in all that life throws our way.

I cannot imagine how those soldiers would have felt, yet even in the depths of despair and devastation, they found hope.

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I’ll leave you with another of my poems and a quote which I read today.

Hope. By Alison Fielding

 

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Keep the hope!

 

 

Love Alison x

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49 thoughts on “Hope.

  1. I love your Hope poem, how poignant with so few words, perfectly defined. Hope is always our greatest ally in times of difficulty, a light that we can always create to keep our spirits lifted, thank you for sharing Alison.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Daffodils, snowdrops and crocuses in your part of the world and highs of minus twenty and snow in my part. But you have given me hope for an early Spring. Really nice inspirational writing, just what I need this time of year. Thank you Alison.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I read Emily Dickinson, Virgin Recluse and Rebel, 36 Poems Their Backstories Her Life by Lea Bertani Vozar Newman…she taught a Literature course focused on Dickinson’s poetry. It was short, to the point, and interesting.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Alison, thank you so much for your wonderful post. I love your poem about snowdrops, I too am always moved to see them in late winter, the harbinger of Spring, of hope after the long darkness. Wow! It was fascinating to read about the soldiers of the Crimean War and their tenderness for these flowers and how in their darkest moments they found light and hope. Also, I realise I must read more Emily Dickinson – her poem here is extraordinary and I had to reread it many times. Beautiful photos as well and you are so lucky to have some flowers out already!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Being in nature/park our senses widen and deepen and you came out refreshed; as you say “with hope”. I love it. It was in the single digits for a few days and now it feels like spring. I, too, have hope that it will remain like this for a few more weeks. Thank you for sharing your lovely poems.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Love Emily Dickinson too. So inspiring. I am not surprised that you are a fervent admirer. There is a particular sweetness in your writing and a finesse that denotes an excellent sense of observation and creativity. Your two poems bear witness to this. They are beautiful and invite to reflection. I hope this year will bring you this book of poems from Dickinson.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thankyou so much Domonique. It was so lovely and confidence boosting to read your comment this morning. I am in the throws of chaos here at the moment and it really lifted me. Busy time over the next week and I will be blogging about it soon Im sure. Looking forward to popping over to your blog when I sit down later. x

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Reblogged this on Through rose tinted glasses. and commented:

    There have been quite a few mentions of snowdrops over the last week. I was certainly lifted the other day when I saw them for the first time. Im not to well today, and looking through old posts I realized that It was the same date a year on from when I wrote this post last year. I thought some of you might enjoy another read and for today I will rest my rather sore eyes and hope a visit to the doctor tomorrow will bring relief. Enjoy and look out for the snowdrops.

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