In a sunlit corner of a timber ceiling,
in an open clearing at the heart of the woods,
a quiet space in my mind.
When the sunlight pierces through the mesh of wet leaves
after a soft and melodious rain in the night,
I remember curling up in my nest of blankets as a child.
Although a distant memory of the past,
it lives as a quiet space in my mind.
I sit there, listening to the birds caw and twitter.
although I stand in another place,
like in an elevator, a bathroom, a congested car jam or in a sluggish queue,
I may not be there in person but I am there in mind,
a quiet space in my mind.
When I wake up in the morning
and all is dark around me
I tiptoe out, feeling small, childlike and afraid.
The world is a gigantic wave,
ready to engulf and consume me.
Where is that place that I've known before?
that quiet space in my mind?
When the screaming inside gets too loud,
and the quibbling chatter of criticism, disapproval and condemnation taunts me
I crumple onto the floor, gasping for air to breathe,
my heart is clawing its way out of my chest,
I am trying to get to that very place,
a quiet space in my mind
But alas, it is no more but a forgotten memory. Buried in years and in time. So forgotten, it feels like fantasy.Â
But alas, it is no more.