Our Bundle Of Joy

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 of 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.