A drop in the ocean?
You are not a drop.
You are the infinite
number of rivulets,
and becomes the stream that tickles
then sneaks and flows and rivers
patiently flooding spaces,
finding, seducing and tearing
Then cresting into waves, sparkling,
shining in the sun, saying, breathing:
“Take me, I am yours.”
Then dying, drying joyfully on the ground.
Floating, rising, rising,
hissing without sound,
feeding white monsters in the sky, starving,
filling and stuffing and fluffing,
painting dragons and hares and bears and dreams
growing bigger, blowing up darker, heavier
then ripping at seams.
Then breaking, rolled,
ruling Lord of thunder,
Storming through mountains and drowning the wind.
force of nature you
joining, becoming you
not the drop but the ocean.
Always the ocean.