Questions

I follow your eyes as they wander toward light and shadow and color. I listen as you let out deep baby belches, dinosaur growls, tenor sighs, and sometimes (when I'm not getting the hint) sudden hunger cries. I'm not supposed to touch my own face at this time of mass panic around the coronavirus pandemic, but I kiss and kiss yours, and then I swallow the smell of your skin. 

While you are still so new, I have several questions for you, - questions you won't be able to answer, but I'm going to ask you anyway.  

Where were you before you entered my body?

What do you remember? Do you remember God?

What about the stars? What do you know about the universe?

What do you remember about love? What do you know about suffering?

Do you know joy?

How much do you remember about me and the development of my soul?


And finally, what are you here to teach me?