How can I write here when the walls have poetry?
And my soul is satisfied
When art hovers in the air and dances free?
When the heart has been explored over scones and tea?
...
I am cradled in your cloud like a child
It is our nature to be so
So revered, so loved and deared
I am small and light
...
Ordered into our own line of fire
Our souls do not belong here
We do not belong here
We belong where we can rest
...
What I have inside is vast and broad and bigger than I let it be.
Sitting in my chest and bursting at the seams.
Such small spaces to come beyond,
But wide as spreading seas.
...