This isolated corner under the trees
Which is meant for strangers
From all walks of life
I've been here, collecting the leaves

Usually, I watch from the window
Today, it's raining
On a tree, a bird is singing
The rain stops to let it ring in the fields

This bird has flown
As it flutters miles, miles into the sun
Touching the skies and tip-toeing in clouds
Like hands outstretched into freedom

After every dark night
My mind is imprisoned
By its cold gates
Until I run to the fields and watch the birds