Hope Flutters

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

My little bird of hope is fluttering its wings desperately against the winds of low expectations for tomorrow's results right now. Oh, Lord, give me true hope, whatever the outcome of this IVF!