In my room, I did ponder.
Lost without travelling.
Out the window. I look yonder.
And find my anxiety unravelling.
Watching over a patchwork quilt.
To cover any signs of guilt.

Through my door and down the stairs.
Mind and body can not wait.
To get to where the wild ensnares.
Beyond my garden gate.
Moving towards a patchwork quilt.
On which tears of others have spilt.

The wind will blow and wind attack.
But I will not be discouraged.
My heart has no intention of turning back.
When it knows its love will have flourished.
Upon a patchwork quilt.
Where the fabric of myself is rebuilt.