it stings
when out of view
pangs the heart
and wells the eyes
when nearer
though it sings
cools the sleep
clears the skies
or quiets
bitter query
what to do
and why is this
pity, self-ward turned
discontent
mercy missed
its wings
are threaded verse
feathered vow
for all you need
to dwindle
what is darkened
what is deafened
what impedes
to know
the flyer flits
just up ahead
just as before
would wholly
set you free
awaken thee
to love much more

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all  ~ Emily Dickinson

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.  Hebrews 1:11

image: drawing by Susie Blythe Anderson