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Another cabin, another wooden floor
A different key to open a different door
The kitchen is small, the tools are a little old
Mismatched cups and a kettle worn and bold
But as I stand here, waiting for the tea
The same old friend comes to visit me
Sliding through the glass, landing on the wood
A familiar warmth that feels so good
Oh, the kitchen window sunshine, steady and bright
The final touch that makes everything right
It doesn’t matter where I wander, where I stay
The golden light always finds its way
Turning a simple room into a sacred space
With a gentle touch upon my face
I watch the dust motes dancing in the beam
Like tiny stars in a waking dream
The rustic counter glows in a honey hue
Bringing the forest in, starting something new
I don’t need a fancy stove or a silver tray
When the sun is painting gold across my day
It’s the secret ingredient, the healing spark
That chases away the cold and the dark
Oh, the kitchen window sunshine, steady and bright
The final touch that makes everything right
It doesn’t matter where I wander, where I stay
The golden light always finds its way
Turning a simple room into a sacred space
With a gentle touch upon my face
The shadows of the leaves play upon the wall
I don’t feel like I’m in a rush at all
Just a wooden spoon and a bowl of fruit
The sun is the music,
I am the flute
It completes the kitchen, it completes my soul
Taking the broken and making it whole
The light on my hands
The light in my heart
The perfect morning.
