Gratitude
I searched the dictionary
I desperately wanted to find
a word, another string of letters
The List
I write, pages, flick, flick , flick
and the pencil, it scribbles,
"I should have known," she winks
"You're a writer."
My Gratitude
How it extends, to places, to people
to survival, and saving
to writing, to daring
to believing, to loving
to declaration
My Evolution
How you've watched me
grow
A mere amateur back in
June
A full year.
My first poem
"Where is my mind"
A recollection, as though
yesterday
the break, I snapped
I dared to enter the
unknown
The land known as Hello Poetry.

© Sia Jane

Breath of life, it is a wild ocean
always a tide coming and going
in this place, it does not linger long
never holding on, only drifts quietly into night
into stars, into fleeting sparks of fire flies
or in the night waters, a ghostly glow
of phosphorescence, a transient trail
of luminescence that soon
fades and reappears to light
the deepest depths
of sea

When I die, dear Mother
don't give my body away
to science.

I'd rather have it given away to poetry.

I want people to cut me open
and observe
how my bones were riddled with
melancholic verses of joyful pasts.

They have to see
the scarlet of my blood was the hue
I stole from the sunsets of
wishful thoughts.

Dear Mother,
give my body away
to the art of writing:
for they have to look past
everything they have ever learned.

They must know
of how much I loved and I lost,
and how that made the twine of my ribs
a story to tell.

Apparently I'm crying
I hate it when I do that.
Most times I don't notice
Till my shirt's stained

We have met once before.
You lined the sky.
Mostly with blue.
Sometimes with pastels.
You threw up clouds.  
Smiled translucent rays.
Exhale fresh of lavender fields.
Let me explore you.
Run through you like a field.
Embracing every grace me with your presence.
Soak into me with your intoxication.
Fill me up from every pour.
Step into this.
Get me lost.
Deep into your winding paths.
Pour out of me.
Spit love off my fingertips.
So I can touch things with true love.
Let me be something.
More than anything I want to be your something.
Filled up and dripping with acceptance.