GESTURES

Down in the depths of my despair,
sitting, thinking I’ll never be whole again,
He passes by me, and ruffles my hair,
And I forget I was in ever in pain…

Waking up every damp, cold morning – a Herculean task,
I’d rather mope and be melancholy,
He pours me a glass of warm water from the flask,
“Would you like anything else, honey?”

The workload, the deadline, dragging me down,
Late nights driving me to my wit’s end,
“I’ve brought some takeout so you can carry on”,
He says, then plants a quick kiss on my forehead.

And when I’m down and sick and forlorn,
When I just don’t know what the hell I am doing,
These little gestures let me know I’m not alone,
these little gestures… keep me going…

© Isha Garg
Doodle by Isha Garg