Poem: When We Make Contact
When we make contact
with the extraterrestrials, the Aliens as they’re called – the Other in its most foreign form –
when we do, what do you think will happen?
What will you feel?
Relief? Fear? Bewilderment? Ecstasy?
Will they be exactly like us, much improved? Or – and this seems more likely – will they
be nothing like us, magically so?
Who will be more intelligent? More evolved? Who will have
figured out the mystery of the universe most fully?
Could it be us? Would that make you happy or sad?
Will black holes and fifteenth dimensions and all that’s sublime and inscrutable
become known and understood?
Would that make life better or worse for you?
When we make contact with whoever is out there,
anything could happen.
Anything might happen.
And though we can’t quite yet hear their calls across the galaxies, maybe that’s what
they’re trying to tell us.