If I'd fit on the windowsill 

I'd plant myself in your direction 

I would use the sun's energy 

To make this place your destination 



How dare I hate this space I occupy 

I'm left to my devices 

Turning to the light 

I'm waiting for the cue 

To beckon to the shoot 

And break the crust upon the soil 



Lack of light the iris expands 

My eyes absorb a power coming 

From beyond my dim room 

In my den amber and damp 

As if lit up by faith alone 

I've been more faithful than you know