Small spaces

I move through magical moments of the past. I am in a nice place
and I dream of adventures that feel like reality as I lie in my childhood bedroom looking at the stars on a pitch black summer evening.
My tiny bedroom was the top of the house with a low, drooping ceiling and brown panaling; a 1960 look where I had a sliding panal door to a deep closet I hid in every so often.
Quiet times are good, I was in meditation moments even as a child in the stillness of the night. Today, inside of myself I always feel calm in small places.