Remembering The Gentle Hug

His mind keeps replaying those emotions,

of that excited shout and the generous hug,

those little fingers caressing his face, lovingly,

holding his hard hands firmly, knowing,

they are her only support, her only joy perhaps,

and his heart melted, as his soul lapped in those moments,

wishing the hug, those fingers, her smell to stay intermingled,

forever, forever.

Thousands of miles away from his little daughter,

whose face kept appearing in front of him, every moment,

like when,

his hands tried to hold her soft little finger,

while she slept peacefully,

and she involuntarily clasping it, holding it tight,

and together they slept, peacefully,

as he kept looking at her innocent face.

As an ear-shattering sound pierced through his soul,

sending momentary shockwaves and piles of dust across his face,

he hoped and imagined that the war on the border ends soon,

and he gets back home into the gentle lap of her daughter's hug.

***