poetry • art • marriage • momhood • faith

Posts in category Daily Life

Light Through Elm & Sweetgum

I’ve found the elm tree. I’m embarrassed to admit that for the 12+ years that we’ve lived here, I’d assumed the trunk one step in front of the brush-line was another sweetgum. In my defense, the trunks do look similar: straight, tall, with rough, gray-brown bark. But I’d failed to take the time to actually […]

Chestnuts & Hazelnuts

I’m sitting in the sun on my leaf-littered deck on a glorious autumn afternoon. The baby — wait! Toddler! Sixteen months tomorrow— is sleeping. Waiting for me inside, I have a laundry list as long as my LulaRoe adorned leg. Halloween costumes to complete, supper to start in the crockpot, and laundry to sort and […]

Consciously Becoming – #captureyourgrief 2016 #whathealsyou

“Where did it come from?” It’s probably one of the most common questions artists get asked about their work. Though as common as it might be, it would be easier to explain to a preschooler where babies come from.

Sunrise and Baptism – October 1, 2016 #captureyourgrief #whathealsyou

As Hurricane Matthew taunts the coast, October has broken into autumnal wet with white skies above. This morning, there were no picturesque sunrise photos to be captured. Everything has been blurred by rain, mostly misting: too fine to be stopped by an umbrella, too much to go without a jacket.  But that is not to […]

Rainbows and Lightning Bug

Three years ago our little Lightning Bug flew to Heaven.   Remembering Alexander Gregory today has been different than past years. This year I have the blessing of thinking of him while I hold his youngest brother, our rainbow baby, already ten weeks and more than ten pounds of joy. (More about that soon. Or […]

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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