I tried to look into your eyes. I wondered where your mind was. In some far away jungle swinging from trees? Living the life your were born to? Perhaps you were wondering why these beings come to your home and look in your windows? What's so fascinating out there?

I felt shamed by you. Like dirty human scum for paying $6.50 just to look at you threw two inches of glass. You a prisoner so sophisticated. I don't think I'll ever visit another zoo and not think of you.

But the more I look at you, the more I wonder; Are you really confined? Your face tells me your mind is still very unenslaved. Content, thinking, looking wise. If only you could speak. Would you tell me your secrets? Could you tell me the meaning of life? Or at least them meaning of yours?

No, you sit there, arms crossed, knees bent, looking very much like a child waiting for a cloud to flutter by. Quietly, patiently keeping your secrets to yourself. You wouldn't tell me a thing. Me, one simple human-being with a camera isn't worthy of your greatness.

I have framed your picture, sat it on my desk. I get lots of jokes about you being the "missing link" in my family. But that's not the reason why I have your picture there. I'm still trying to figure out what you're thinking. Trying to figure out if I'll ever look as wise and all-knowing as you.

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