Mom tilted the bottle like an artist,
pouring sunlight into the bath water.
Bubbles swirled, rising to meet themselves,
tiny planets born from soap and hope.
My goggles pressed tight around my face,
the elastic biting into soft skin
but nothing could stop this exploration,
this daring dive beneath a foam sky.
Submerged, the world blurred to silver.
Bubbles hovered, caught mid-dream,
their round bodies trembling with purpose,
each one a secret waiting to be discovered.
I reached for them like hidden treasure.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Soft fireworks underwater,
explosions so quiet only I could hear—
a child turning war into wonder.
When I surfaced, dripping galaxies,
the bathroom air caught in my throat.
I grinned at Mom through the fizzing light,
became an astronaut, home from the stars.