Sometimes
when I watch my newborn
discovering this alien world
staring at a source of light
smiling at a wooden chair
or a broom
as if they were old friends
I think to myself
in the maze of growing up
something precious must have gotten lost
or quietly died inside
suffocated
under layers after layers of dirt
piled up as the years went by
to witness that will break my heart
so I pray to the gods and the spirits for his little soul