Brilliant effort, a pro-life poem by Kathy Pluth.
"Breathe for me," they haunt my prayer
with infant dreams of drawing air.
I shrink from sharp and sudden fear.
I shrink because the knife is near.
I feel a light initial blow--
but to the death my dreams don't go.
If you could only hear and see
the interest group that lobbies me--
whose privacy is not a right,
whose lives will end before tonight--
how quickly you would mark the ruse:
a woman's right to plan and choose.
A century beyond our own
will marvel at the evil done:
the terror and the salt and blood
in clean suburban neighborhoods;
the killing of one child in five
while you and I were here, alive.
I am watching a fascinating period piece on television, "Call the Midwife," dreading a moment when it betrays the reality of the time and place in whihc it is set and takes a politically correct pro-"choice" stance.
(Perhaps it never will?)
There was a little behind-the-scenes blurb after last nights episode, where the director, i believe, spoke of how, while filming, even the most hardened techies were awe-struck and teary eyed in the presence of the babies, in the presence of new life.
Is there any other?