Our Bundle of Joy

Source: Pinterest

An hour past midnight.
The corridor silent yet lit up
With the rush of late night assignments.

She slept while I worked,
Eyes half-open, drinking in the light
In spite of the slumber.
Or so I believed.



In a moment she rose
Quick as lightning; troubled eyes
Staring into mine.
My own bore into hers
Brimming concern and confusion,
Waiting for what was to be.

Her eyes tore away and searched
For solace she couldn't find in mine.
The hands reached for the book,
Hardbound and harsh
As it banged against her head
Over and over with no end.

The demon had returned,
Gnawing its way to the mind
And tearing open from within.
They'd put a name to it.
'Migraine', it was called.

I bolted to the silent corridor,
Knocking open the doors to gather
What it took to kill the beast.
Over and over I tried
And over and over she struck
Her head still,

Until I barged into the room
Next door crying, "Sha. Help."

And then, the magic unfolded
As the girl next door walked in
With nothing but herself to heal
The pained soul awakened from sleep.

In no time, the hardbound book
Found its place back to the table,
The demon was forgotten,
And laughter mixed with our breaths.

Of her secret ways the world
Knew naught, yet we suspect her
Dance of the hips,
Words from the lips,
And the cheery cheeks for the charm.

Found often tucked in our room,
Two years ago, she had surfaced.
And two years thence have learned
The myriad faces of joy.

Because to this angel
Descended on earth,
Life was too short to be serious.
To this angel blessing our room,
Pasta dates made the day.
As did car rides and music
And Selfies and dance
And Teddy bears and hugs
And midnight revelations.

Today, this angel turns twenty-one
And we turn to her with grins,
Grateful to have found
And kept this bundle of joy.

Happy birthday, you.