poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith


Suddenly, with a pop, there is dark, as if God himself had changed his mind, had decided light wasn't all that great after all.

But no. The heavenly lights still gleam: stars and stars and galaxies of stars and a bright lunar wink.

Perhaps, instead, God decided to remind these two blocks on the city's electrical grid of the beauty interwoven with the first words to echo through the nothingness:

Let there be light.

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  1. Jenn Jenn
    October 5, 2008    

    The last time we had a blackout it lasted a couple hours and after the initial shock of losing power to everything it occured to me that there was a quiet in our house that doesn’t even exist when everything is off. The low hum of things plugged in taht can’t be unplugged (like the fridge) was gone and I could truly let my brain relax. It was really great. Some days I wish for one just to force me to slow down 🙂 Hope you made the most of it!

  2. Ginger Ginger
    October 5, 2008    

    thank goodness for the blackberry! haha! things like that are a good excuse to go out and gaze at the stars on your back.

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torch bearing quietly

I will not act out, will not
yell or curse or slam doors,
will not make a scene -- you
do not deserve such a chance
to make an example out of me
to be proven right since you
are not. Instead, I'll stand
at this street corner, raise
my hand high and clench that
light which yet remains. It
will burn brightly, quietly,
fiercely before fading as I.

Then I'll be gone but found.

©JAC 2005

Poetry by Julie Ann Cook!

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Love Like Weeds
by Julie Ann Cook
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