"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.
i think this poem best captures what i've been feeling and thinking lately.
it's been a while since you've heard about the teacup installation, but they are on the move again. :) and this time, they are traveling all the way to NYC!! it's kinda crazy - i will give you more details later, but right now, i'm packing them up in a box.