3am

personal poetry

Baba, you cry, at 3am,
I wake up, groggy,
stumble through the dark,
struggle to find my slippers in the rush,
Baba, you cry, again

I hold you, hug you tight,
you mumble, describe your nightmare, incomprehensibly,

I tell you it’s going to be alright,
Everything’s going to be alright,
I am here.

You calm down,
ready to face Sher khan again,
go back to sleep,
in my arms.

I lay you down gently,
kiss your forehead,
smile inwards,
at your face of pure innocence.

I sleep a little less,
my heart melts a little more.