Midnight Sentry

Parents keep your wits about you
When it’s hours before dawn,
Your poor bladder’s full to bursting
And your brain is barely on.

On a background of gouache darkness,
You perceive a floating smudge
Slightly startled, you step backwards
One would say you’d met the Grudge.

Outlines wobbling, shadow bobbling
Over sleeper-toasted covers
At the center of the bedding
Like a sprite, the presence hovers.

Your beleaguered pupils swell
Yet you cannot fix its features:
Do you see a wayward ghostling
Or a hive of hov’ring creatures?

Neither! All you see is Baby
Head erect and tummy prone,
Ears are busy sonar-scanning
Eyes deploy each rod and cone.

Tiny torso raised on pudgy,
Chubby arms that clutch the sheet,
Inch by inch she slouches forward
Pushing pillows with her feet.

Suddenly, her lips, aquiver,
Start to take that scary form
Signaling the end of patience
Right before the tearful storm.

Silence shatters, but what matters
Is that cherished child’s face,
Frantic arms will fly to rescue
Baby with a warm embrace.

***

Babies keep your wits about you
When it’s hours before dawn,
Your dear dada’s spot is empty
And the bathroom light is on.

Wael Almahdi

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Wael Almahdi would be pleased to hear them