It is second week of August.

The soft lamp light dazzles in the corner of the maternity ward.

I slide open the white curtain letting,

pale shimmer of moonlight into the room.

The window looks out onto the evergreen pine trees.

I lit a candle and place it on the window-sill,

next to the bouquet of red rose.

 

It is just a little after Ten PM.

A baby crying sound breaks the silence of the room.

The doctor cuts the umbilical cord and

clamps near the navel leaving behind a stump.

The mother and baby are fine.

Except for the doctors there are no visitors tonight.

 

Next to the ward bed,  

The nurse takes the baby and puts her on the nursing table,

She wipes off the amniotic fluid from her body nice and clean.

I hurry to take newborn pictures.

The nurse warns, “It can damage your daughter’s eyes.”

I step back.

 

 

A soft white cloth wraps up her body,

and a knitted pink hat covers her little head.

I hold the baby; a warm embrace lingers inside me.

Her small head rest against my chest as she falls asleep.

A smile spreads across my face.

On the visitor bed,

I long for sleep that night but couldn’t get her off my mind.

I then fall asleep later dreaming about playing hide and seek with her outside.