poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith

Morning of the March

Morning of the March

Today I wear red, a pin, and a medal. I am
shrouded in mourning, clinging to prayer
as my siblings and peers gather
on Madison Drive, prepare
to march forward, bound
by sweaters, scarves,
by the greatest of these
for the least among us:
unexpected child,
unprepared mother.

Today I wear prodigal hope
as a birthright, not
political entitlement.


  1. Jenn Jenn
    January 25, 2009    

    Is this something you actually took part in? What was the march in response to?

  2. artjewl artjewl
    January 28, 2009    

    Jenn, this was in reference to the annual March For Life, held in DC every January 22 (the anniversary of Roe v. Wade). My sister, brother-in-law, brother, and some other friends were able to take part; however, due to work and other logistics, I stayed here in SC.

  3. Jenn Jenn
    February 3, 2009    

    Bummer you couldn't be there but hopefully next year…although with a new baby that could be out too! Hope they had a great time & enjoyed the festivities!

  4. artjewl artjewl
    February 4, 2009    

    Oh, Jenn, I’m afraid something’s been lost in the translation. There were no festivities, no good times to be had. Either would suggest a celebration. The March for Life is a walked prayer (“move your feet when you pray, child” comes to mind) of rememberance for the children lost to abortion, of healing for all those who suffer from the aftermath of abortion, and of change to our society that increasingly embraces a culture of death where a woman’s “right to choose” to kill her child is considered a right at all.

    In a perfect world, there wouldn’t BE a March to go to next year. However, considering our president’s commitment to cater to Planned Parenthood (our nation’s largest abortion provider), I expect another March on 1/22/10. A child in a sling around my chest would be all the more reason to participate: sure it might not be convenient, but inconvenience is the reason for most abortions. Much about children is inconvenient. But can anything GOOD come of always taking the easy path in any apect of life?

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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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