Each raindrop explodes
into millions of tiny oceans
that I can’t see.
As if written in code.
I know of their existence
they mean the world to me
but I wish I could feel and know
without emotion
that one of the millions of oceans
was bigger than the sea

from which the raindrop first appeared
and was lifted upwards just to fall again
again, against all agony an aging raging storm
dropped its first few bombs.
Signalling to the rest it would soon be time
for their own demise,
surmised from the fallen
they form the same sea scenically placed
where we will first meet
they are chastised for their ability to
reconstruct from their own destruction.

I shake in my bed thinking of all the millions of oceans forming over head
and all of the oceans they have been and will be
all the seas they were a part of then
and now that they can’t and won't be