Home
Home looks different now,
littered with baby stuff –
sensory toys and books,
musical mat, ball pool,
Legos, doodle pad, et al.
Home,
I still try to keep it spotless and clean,
but does it really matter,
how neatly or haphazardly the books are arranged,
how the white sofa and walls are stained,
how the playmat is tattered with time!
Home,
toddler giggles and meltdowns,
hurried mornings and messy afternoons,
Some days are excruciatingly slow,
others,
heartbreakingly fast.
Home,
in the dead of the night,
when the world is deep in slumber,
and you wake and cry!
Does anyone see how I pacify you at 1 in the night?
At 2:30 a.m.? At 3-30 a.m. again?
Does anyone see the tears I shed in the shower,
the ones I wipe away before anyone can ask if I’m okay?
Home,
the place where I discover a quiet strength I never knew I had.
Home,
the place where I find calm amidst the chaos.
Home,
a haven where I am made and remade continually!
C'est la vie!
Falling in love with the sunset
doing what I like: drinking good tea,
dusting sugar over toasted bread,
and writing poetry.
Ageing Indian woman in an oversized
winter sweatshirt. Grateful enough.
Savouring homemade avocado popsicles,
the moon blooming in through the living
room window. The distant hum of slow traffic.
Learning French as a second language.
C'est la vie!
And then, just like that! Falling in love
with my fading self: grey hair,
diastasis recti, moles et al.
Today isn’t about doing, just being.
I take a breath, I feel the quiet,
I let the moon caress me, I soak up the sun.
The big things glitter, but it is the small things
that make the heart glow.
These Are Nights I’ll Never Forget
Rocking you in the dark,
the whole house steeped in quietude,
except for the soft creaking of the bed.
You finally fall asleep in my arms,
your fragile hands curled affectionately around my neck.
I don’t put you down.
I hold you tight, very tight,
the warmth of your skin,
the sound of your breath,
tears of gratitude roll down.
It hits me all at once –
how fleeting this moment is.
Someday you will grow up,
someday you will outgrow my protective arms,
so let me rock you a little longer,
let me hug you tighter,
let me kiss you one more time before I put you down.
Oh yes,
my shoulders ache,
my back hurts,
my eyes burn from exhaustion,
but it hardly matters
because one day I’ll look back on these nights and
wish I could have just one more.
Love you so much!
About the Poet:
Swati Moheet Agrawal is a mother whose work has appeared in Thimble Lit Mag, Sledgehammer Lit, The Alipore Post, Muse India, Setu, Active Muse, Kitaab, Friday Flash Fiction, Free flash Fiction, Café Lit Magazine, The Dribble Drabble Review, The Pangolin Review, Potato Soup Journal, Rhodora Magazine, Modern Literature, Ariel Chart, The Criterion, Five Minute Lit, Life in 10 Minutes, Indian Periodical, Paragraph Planet and Cogito Literary Journal among other literary journals and publications. When she is not mollycoddling her baby girl, she spends time writing in her favourite coffee shop.