I like a little space for my mind to grow,
to swim and to discover the boundless joys of just being
Of just thinking, of dancing in meadows of sunshine
Conjured by hope and woven by threads of faith.
I like a little space where I can secretly dwell
In the lonely hours of twilight or soft rains
And speak to myself or to the deceiving emptiness
Of the air, which itself has a soul perchance.
I like a little space where the birds do sing
A song that is their own, and yet resonates with mine
That beats against my heart with the might of a lion
And sidles against my cheek like the mist of night.