To be

While I pick at this mold I’m asked

What do you want to be

A fluffy cloud?

Nah, it’s too late

A pipe?

Nah, my arms are growing tired.

Well what do you want to be?

I wish to remain shapeless

without form

not caste in a womb and fired in a kiln

I wish to remain a moist slab watered daily

easily used as a bowl

then a cup

or kneaded to comfort

but no I do not wish to be a temporary choice

made stationary



-Saschia Johnson

Published by Jayne

Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily on improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with.

4 thoughts on “To be

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