‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers –That perches in the soul – ” Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
I was browsing in the bookshop, and a book flew into my hands. It was called Poems for a World Gone to Sh*t.
A “world gone to sh*t” – that seems a fair diagnosis of the current age. And who can say they’re not to some degree infected by the hopelessness this tends to engender? It’s a widespread general malaise. But here in the bookshop this bold wee book fluttered in my palms. I opened it, and read the epigraph by Oscar Wilde:
We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
It was my first inkling of why Poems for a World Gone to Sh*t had flown so urgently out of the shelves. It’s that fully-feathered thing, a book of hope. It deserves a perch in every human soul.