we peered through the tiny window
like passengers on Cousteau’s deep sea submarine
eyes scanning the unknown for familiar, yet exotic shapes
then you swam out of the darkness
and into the small frame of vision
like some ancient deep sea creature
who has lived its whole existence beyond the reach of the sunlight
we peered at you in awe
you were no obedient specimen,
and did not hold still long to be gawked at
before disappearing again into the nebulous dark
I was aware of my breathing, and Ryan’s.
and you reappeared, yawning in the saltwater
we glimpsed your perfectly formed hands
beating four-chambered heart
We came all this way
to see you
not fathoms deep in the ocean, true
but fathoms deep in concept.
For years, we contemplated this journey.
Would we be tourists? Taking the voyage purely to satisfy our own curiosity?
Or would this trip make the world a better place, somehow?
Did we really understand what it meant to call you into being?
Did we have the right?
Were we ready to know you?
was there such a thing as the “right time”?
funny how concepts become conceptions.
here you were
floating in front of us
floating underneath my very skin
it meant something so simple
it meant something so complex
concept no more
And who are we to call you ours?