I needed a space that was all mine, so I made a place, and a piece of time.
To make my place I let things go, to make the space, to make it grow.
And before this space, was filled again, it would stretch and yawn and breathe and grin.
I sweep and straighten in my head, until the dust is gone, and the light is shed.
All these things this space could be, it felt awake, then it roared to me.
It could see the sky, and the sun shine in, with the curtains open the wind could enter and spin.
I did not clean this place to clutter, It is not a space for others to mutter.
I can look outside and see and feel, content to watch, and ponder and heal.
I’m glad I made this space of mine, in my head, this piece of time.