Dave Bonta's short poem borrows the story of evolution and turns it into something closer to a feeling. In the first stanza, "we" are creatures of the sea, so attached to ships that we imprinted on their shape, the way a newborn animal fixes on the first thing it sees. The odd phrase "taking water as a master" suggests a life of obedience, where the sea sets the terms and we simply follow.
The second stanza breaks away. Like fish growing legs, we climb out and "go up into the full music." The poem never says what that music is, which leaves it open. It could be sound, language, or simply the richness of life on land. The mood is quiet but hopeful, with a sense of wonder rather than loud celebration. The speaker seems to see change as both a leaving behind and a lifting up. Moving from water's rule to something fuller feels like a small, brave step, and the short lines make it feel light and almost like a breath being taken in.