Broadcast your music,
Your geometry, your science,
But keep in mind that as you do so,
You cater only to that group of distant organisms,
Only to that which is smarter than you,
Or perhaps a little less.
But what of the others,
Those millions, perhaps,
For you do not know the numbers,
Those like us.
For I am no green monster,
With four eyes and two tongues,
No those sorts of organisms reside within your species alone,
I have no legs and no hands,
But take my word for it, a living thing I am.
By your definition, perhaps,
But please, we don’t appreciate your labels.
We remain ignored in your works of children’s literature,
Your tales of extraterrestrial exploration,
In your imaginations we no longer find a place.
And with every earthling unaware of our existence,
Or even dismissive,
Our wait lengthens slowly, as does yours.
Thus I insert myself back into my rightful territory.
Those bug-eyed creatures may never respond,
But until you find them we will not move,
For even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t go far,
And perhaps one day our race will evolve,
Into those who you so dearly wish to find,
But for now we may be all that you have.
Believe that we are out there,
Wish upon a star.