You opened your womb, and I came out of the darkness.
I experienced the light, the air; I saw the grandeur of the sky, its lullaby to the earth.
When I crawled, you stayed with me, and so….little by little I learned to step on you.
Tirelessly, after every clumsy fall you picked me up, to every demand of my being you changed the season; in your hands, over time, I found the rules of life.
Now, grown up…I do nothing but defile you, bury you under concrete or look at you from my terrace.
Every day I damage you, putting off my own end; but everyone knows: that when the goodness of the mother is over, you open your womb again, and we are given back to the void.
Mario Molina Cruz