A place where you can be human.
A gray cloud of hope escapes my mouth
It swirls around my head and seeps into my curls
“I want to keep it.” I told my husband.
But he didn’t hear me.
The moon shines down and trees pass us by
“I saw two shooting stars.” He states.
But I’m busy trying to smell the hope in my curls
To see the moon
And to admire the trees
Silence becomes us
But our minds, they’re lit up like Christmas trees
-Saschia
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 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. View more posts
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