My Magnificent

by Katski

A drop in the ocean? 
You are not a drop.
You are the infinite 
number of rivulets,
that trickles
and becomes the stream that tickles
then sneaks and flows and rivers
into crevices,
patiently flooding spaces,
finding, seducing and tearing
rocks.
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,
dropping,
unleashing you,
power,
in torrents.
Storming through mountains and drowning the wind.
Unstoppable you
force of nature you
joining, becoming you
not the drop but the ocean.
You.
Always the ocean.

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